Sign of the Craft
by IthilienJajuka
Summary: Members of the STNE have been murdered, and it's up to the STNJ to fight a literally unspeakable enemy. AU WHRxHP Crossover.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter...otherwise I would have made a second season of WHR.

Author's Notes:

Spoilers and Warnings: Despite being an AU fic, this story will have spoilers for the two series, so be warned in case you haven't seen all of WHR or read HP up to Half-Blood Prince. Also, because this is an AU fic, I will be altering some things mainly to make the two worlds correspond with each other. Beware.

Timeline: At this point in the Witch Hunter Robin series, the STN-J are still together. Roughly, the story starts in between Robin "acquiring" the Arcanum of the Craft/Inquisitor episode and Amon hunting Robin in "Loaded Guns." Amon has been told by Zaizen that Robin is a witch, but he has received no orders pertaining to her hunt/arrest.

As for the Harry Potter series, their part of the story starts at the beginning of their fifth year (i.e. Order of the Phoenix). This way Harry and his crew are of the same age as Robin and Sirius Black is in the story.

Prologue

The figure is smiling on the television screen. He is perfectly aware that there are instruments recording his image, but he doubts anyone who relies on cameras for investigation will be able to stop or find him.

This disgusted Zaizen. As chief of the Solomon branch in Tokyo, it was his sworn duty to protect the innocent from harm caused by paranormal agents, mainly witches. Unlike ordinary officers, these supposed fearsome creatures met their matches in his men and women of the STN-J. Though the members came and went, he always had a few cold-blooded killers on the team to get the job done.

Zaizen had taken pride in his team, but he also became incredibly heartless to his prey. Why should he care anyway?

The man on the screen was murdering these people without giving them a fair fight. What kind of man kills people with a flick of a wand? The death blow should be weighed down with the very idea of killing and its consequences. One should not be able to simply mutter two ridiculous words and kill any person he or she sees.

Zaizen smoothed over his Italian-made suit and sat back in the leather chair. Pausing the video tape, the aging man caught a glimpse of a demon in the cloak. It had glimmering red slits for eyes and an indistinguishable nose. Did this thing even have one? The black hood hid every other feature and the cloak was nowhere near form-fitting. The only evidence in this video that he can rely on is an estimated height and an extra blurry picture for eyes - something easily attributed to a fake testimonial from an "eye-witness" without gathering suspicion.

At least this would give him a reason not to show his team the video. The images were not gruesome enough to get the idea across that this filth must be eliminated. Other commanders of different branches have agreed that if this is to be a rallying point for Solomon agents to attack the largest known group of witches, then the deaths must remain hidden or exaggerated. Operatives from Solomon's home base in Italy have taken care of the situation. Two hours after this had taken place, they had made sure that family's would be forced to cremate the bodies.

The operatives had done their duty well, even if it had been their comrades' bodies they were ordered to defile. That's what Zaizen liked about Solomon. The loyalty was beyond his expectations. Agents would kill their own mothers if they were said to be witches. And in reality, the complete annihilation of all witches is what he strived for.

If this thing had not attacked the STN-E, Zaizen would have ignored the other antics of England's dark witches. Solomon was already well aware of the death toll in Great Britain, but the numbers had a very high percentage of witches. It was worth the risk of innocent lives to turn a blind eye to the situation. Having the largest community of witches destroy each other in some epic battle would have proven to be quite entertaining - almost as entertaining as showing up on the winners' doorstep and wiping them out when they had their guard down.

However, this beast changed the situation, and Solomon has forced his hand. While other European branches were considered for the job of investigation, the STN-J had been chosen for a number of reasons.

Zaizen knew that he himself was trustworthy and already knowledgeable of the plans to kill all witches and craft-users. His team would also be the first in an experiment on behavior. He had two members who were craft-users, and Solomon was anxious to figure out what type of reaction they would have to a particularly tight-knit and well-developed community. Solomon wanted to know whether or not this false sense of security was strong enough to turn some craft-users away from their duties as hunters.

The STN-J was a particularly ideal first group because of the fail-safe already established in the team. While the question of turning traitor was an issue, the question of whether another agent could hunt another hunter was even more of a problem. Zaizen's own team leader had not only done so eight months ago, but it had been his former partner as well.

Solomon had been impressed by the dedication and loyalty to Solomon alone, without the emotional attachments to members of a lower order. With an assured option of killing the other agents once they've turned their backs on Solomon, the organization was more than optimistic in allowing the STN-J to be its first trial experiment. While Zaizen still had his doubts, he was also willing to build a better name for himself within the company.

Zaizen turned his attention back onto the screen. The copied tape was still paused on the looming black figure. This creature was going to meet its doom in his team and in Solomon. This mongrel's death was pinned the moment he stepped into that office. Solomon was invincible, inscrutable and unmerciful, even at the expense of its own members.

Zaizen ejected the video and threw it into the fireplace.


	2. Chapter 1: Arrival in London

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter...otherwise I would have made a second season of WHR.

Chapter 1: Arrival in London

Even in business class, the seats on the airplane were unbearable. A non-stop flight from Tokyo to London involves a lot of sitting and cramped leg room for someone who clocks in at 6' 1" tall.

Not that any of this showed on his face. Ever since he was 8 years old, he had been trained to sit with incredible (almost Victorian) posture with an unreadable facial expression. The enemy cannot read you and will underestimate you, believing that you've relaxed. Even if there were no immediate dangers on the flight, one could never know. He was already aware of the safety instructions in case of an emergency and knew where all the emergency exits were located. The stewardesses did not seem to carry any weapons, though the sloppy attempt at spilling a drink on his lap earlier almost ended with her being physically ejected out of business class, if not the plane.

Even if he now tensed his muscles and heightened his senses every time a stewardess stopped to ask him something, STN-J squad leader Amon had an air of tranquility, especially when in comparison with the other team members.

"Are we there yet?" Haruto Sakaki groaned in the most childlike whine he could muster. Amon had to turn around in order to identify that it was in fact not a 4-year-old girl who had just uttered those words.

"The ETA to London is approximately an hour," Amon said in his trademark deadpan voice, completely unfazed by the fact that the question was rhetorical.

"If you're that bothered by sitting, you could take a walk around the aisles and stretch your legs," Miho Karasuma added. Amon had a sneaking suspicion that although the suggestion was reasonable, it would also get her away from her partner for a few minutes. Apparently the most patient woman in the world can only stand listening to a one-sided conversation about video games for so long. And Sakaki wondered why he didn't have a girlfriend.

"Are you kidding me?" Sakaki yelled incredulously. "I tried that before and everyone stared at me as if my death could get them into the business class section. Vultures."

"Then stop complaining if you don't intend to do anything about it," Yurika Doujima interjected. Amon was wondering when she'd chime in. She loved an argument, especially when there was an easy target like the rookie hunter involved.

"C'mon guys," Michael Lee said, trying his best to soothe his friends' growing distaste to close proximity with one another. "I think we're all a little tired of sitting for eight hours straight with nothing to do but eat stale food." Michael quickly ducked away from the death glare sent his way from a stewardess taking a break from fawning over Amon.

"Oh, don't get me started on the food," Doujima said, almost instinctively putting her nose in the air.

"All of you should be contemplating the assignment at hand," Zaizen snapped. "We only have an hour left and I'm positive none of you have read over the material."

The boss literally looked like he was going to explode. For one reason or another, Zaizen had insisted on accompanying the team instead of Chief Kosaka and Hattori, which made Amon even more wary about the case. None of the evidence was matching up.

He'd heard of the type of wizadry in England and various pockets of Europe and America. They use wands to channel their crafts and rely on casting spells and charms instead of developing a craft in a certain field of expertise. Because these witches used this method, they needed specific wands that could be used alongside their natural craft without disastrous results. While he had always thought of Karasuma's power as empathy, it is apparently a strong version of the power occlumency, though her's was restricted to touch.

However, none of the spells and incantations that he had researched could possibly result in the massacre in the report. The pictures were of obvious paranormal activity. No swords or knives could cut so cleanly, but Amon was certain that no spell could do that either. On one hand, there had been a witch's symbol cast in the sky, but only crafts he'd seen in Japan and in Solomon corresponded with the type of injuries suggested by the report.

Amon had been increasingly wary of Solomon lately. They had seemed a little too overjoyed by his hunt of Kate and not worried enough by the fact she had turned against them. He had also recently been given notice by Zaizen to pay close attention to Robin, who was supposedly a witch and no longer just a craft-user.

He never really saw the distinction between the two categories - only that one aided Solomon's efforts and one did not. A typical response from a man who has lived by Solomon regulations, he supposed, but Amon wasn't quite sure what to make of this new revelation.

Without moving noticeably to the naked eye, he shifted his attention partially to his papers in front of him but also to his partner on his left. She seemed engrossed by the clouds outside, oblivious to not only her work but also to the mini-argument that had just passed minutes earlier. She rested her head on her hand, leaning on the side of the plane and unconsciously playing with a loose thread on her already frayed pilgrim's dress. The handlebars were gone momentarily as pigtails aren't comfortable while sleeping on a non-stop flight.

Robin didn't seem any different from the moment he had met her two months earlier, albeit she had grown more powerful and more able as a Solomon hunter. She was still naive and innocent. Karasuma had reported to him about the girl's tearful reaction to the new assignment - mainly to the graphic pictures. He tried to ignore the pointed comment accompanying the report about laying off her for a while, but decided that the only thing he would hurt by holding his tongue would be his cold image - which he can always solidify again in future circumstances.

He couldn't gauge whether she was still in the funk or not, but realized that if she was still depressed, this wasn't the job for her. He'll have to say something to her when Karasuma was out of ear shot.

Robin suddenly jerked from her daydreaming and managed to swing her elbow into Amon's forearm. The unexpected resistance made Robin jump entirely out of her seat and start profusely apologizing to him. She talked so fast he couldn't make out any of the words.

Not wanting to be the center of attention for the airplane's crew nor a distraction for Sakaki and Doujima to talk about, he pulled Robin back into her seat and handed her the assignment folder.

"We have about an hour," Amon said without raising his voice. "Look over the material so you're ready for the investigation at the crime scene."

Amon didn't miss the downtrodden look nor the rising blush from her previous embarrassment. It was all for the best anyway. The girl was eating away at his brain and making him questioning a loyalty he's held for 13 years. The further he pushed, the less likely his confusion will get the better of him.

Acting oblivious to her obvious discomfort, he leaned back into the chair and blindly read the notes he'd taken on the crime. His priority now was getting off this plane as quickly and as calmly as possible.

The investigation at the crime scene was not soothing Amon's suspicions. Zaizen had sent Karasuma and Sakaki to interview the constables who had found the bodies and the eye witness who saw the perpetrator. Amon had argued the decision with Zaizen (as much as one can argue with a superior) and plead his case for Karasuma to stay and scry the scene. Zaizen had been particularly stubborn and refused the suggestion outright.

Zaizen had never been one to ignore Amon's comments before. The man usually knew that Amon's instincts were usually correct, but now he was acting as if Amon were a rookie hunter.

Amon kneeled next to one of the blood stains on the floor near the wall. Taking out one of the pictures in the file, he found the one that showed a body, or rather group of limbs next to the wall. The brutality of the crime was not corresponding with the evidence he held in his hands.

Motivation behind dismembering the Solomon agents was a no-brainer. Witches have always been violently hostile with them when they realize how many of their kind they had killed. Though it may be easy to pin a motive, the physicality of the crime did not match the usual protocol for witches.

Amon had read the autopsy report on the STN-E agents, but still couldn't shake the strong possibility that these cuts were post-mortem. Under normal circumstances, post-mortem cuts would not bleed, but the blood spills on the floor and walls were saying otherwise. Amon had been in enough hunts and operated in more than enough torture scenarios to know that the splatter on the wall didn't quite match what would happen if one chopped off an arm. Even if it were magic, the blood in the meeting room resembled more of a Quentin Tarantino movie than real life.

The bruises on the head that were identified on the report seemed to pinpoint an awkward fall, as if the person had stiffly fallen backward. The fact that all bodies showed similar markings would also indicate that dismemberment had occurred either when they were on the ground or already dead. People don't simply fall in the same manner in seven separate situations when they are being brutally attacked. Since there was no evidence of bound limbs, the others could not have waited on the ground while the culprit butchered them. With all evidence pointing to a cover-up, Amon became very suspicious of Zaizen's deliberate movements across the flat.

He was giving orders to some of the other officers on the scene. Similar to the relationship among bureaus in Tokyo, the other branches of law enforcement seemed puzzled by the STN-J and looked awkward as their jaws dropped at every sign of expensive equipment. The boss seemed to be placating them. Sugar-coating any situation was a forte of Zaizen, not of Amon, who preferred being direct and blunt.

"Amon?" He turned to his 15-year-old partner, waiting patiently at his side. He hadn't even heard her approach or knew how long she'd been there. Her ability to do so unsettled him, almost as much as the reverent tone with which she always seemed to say his name.

"Michael found the most recent files that the STN-E was working on," Robin said quietly.

Amon rose to his full height and walked over to Michael, who sat at one of the computer stations. He rested his hand on the back of the boy's chair and leaned forward to get a better look at the computer screen. "What did you get?"

"Only a list of names as of right now," the American boy said, obviously happy that he was immersed in the English language again. "We can cross-reference the names with the database and the hard copies in the storage area. The most recent file is on someone called 'Sirius Black.' Apparently he's been wanted within the wizarding community in London for two years."

"We'll start with him for now," Amon said. "He is the most likely to be our suspect, and if he isn't, he will most definitely point us toward the right direction."

He looked to Zaizen who nodded in approval and left the work stations to talk to the chief inspector in the meeting room.

"Michael," Amon said in a hushed voice, leaning closer to the boy's ear, "I want you to check the camera system and get me a copy of last night's murder." Michael furrowed his brow and glared at Amon, obviously unwilling to have to look at the footage. "Don't argue. Do as I say and if I'm right, the results will tell you why I'm telling you to do this." Amon straightened and raised his voice. "Robin and I will head into London. Karasuma, Doujima and Sakaki will join us en route."

Amon swiftly walked to the exit while Robin hurried to catch up with him.

"Amon, where are we going?"

"Shopping."


	3. Chapter 2: Alleyways

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter...otherwise I would have made a second season of WHR.

A/N: For those who reviewed, don't worry, Amon and every other character won't be OOC. But a huge thanks to Lady-Azura and young wiccan for being my first reviewers.

Chapter 2: Alleyways

Haruto Sakaki thoroughly believed that his worst nightmare had come true. Hundreds upon hundreds of witches were walking past him and not only was he wearing an outfit that looked ridiculous on him, but he was also unarmed. Grasping only air when he instinctively reached for his orbo gun, Sakaki was beginning to sweat profusely and nothing could stop him from shaking, even at the sight of his partner. Both of her.

"Sakaki, are you alright? I think you need to sit down somewhere." He was pretty sure that her craft had nothing to do with identifying him as a nervous wreck. He took a seat in front of an ice cream parlor - the one shop he thought looked the most normal.

"I think I'll be okay," Sakaki lied through his teeth. He leaned closer to Karasuma. "Aren't you scared at all?"

"A little," she admitted. "But we are undercover and other than you shaking like a leaf, there's no reason for anyone to suspect us to be anything other than witches. Besides, if you read the report Amon gave us on the plane, you'd know that these witches don't think much of non-magic people."

Ah yes, the report. For dedicating his life (especially his social life) to his job, Sakaki definitely had an exceptional talent at not doing much work while on duty, even if Doujima outdid his one skill with flying colors.

"I think it's best if we just sit here for now," Karasuma said. "You're in no shape to go anywhere, and I'm sure Amon and Yurika will find something out. Well, at least Amon will."

"Didn't Amon-san say something about gathering info from people on the street."

"Yes, and I've bumped into more people than I'd like. Trust me. No one's thinking about any murderers."

"We should probably do something, though," Sakaki reluctantly added. If he didn't do something, Amon and everyone else were most likely going to comment on his inability as a hunter. That's something he didn't need right now.

Down the alley, he spotted a bookstore that seemed to be attracting only children and parents. That would probably be the least dangerous place in the vicinity. "How about there. Hiding behind shelves and eavesdropping on conversations is a specialty of mine."

Karasuma laughed. Sakaki noticed that she didn't do that often, he guessed because she was second in command. He liked it better when she acted her actual age. "Well then. Let's put those talents to good use."

The bookstore was much larger than Sakaki had anticipated. From the outside, it looked like a small store, but apparently looks can be quite deceiving in this world. Shelves upon shelves were lined with...textbooks? All of the children had lists of required reading and were choosing their books. Sakaki suddenly became very afraid, both of the fact that people were teaching witchcraft to these kids and also of the nostalgic feeling that was reminding him of his own less than popular days as a secondary school student.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a quarreling father and son, who were dressed in black. They looked like a far too perfect pair to find out something dark and mysterious. With a wave to his partner, he climbed up the rickety staircase and "browsed" the section nearest to the dark witches.

"Draco, don't ruin any plans for us. I know you were listening to the meeting, and I don't want you interrupting our little game."

"But father, Harry Potter..."

"Leave him to us, Draco. Go and buy your books. I still have matters to attend to in Knockturn Alley."

Knockturn Alley? Wasn't that the place Amon said he was heading to? He should really pay attention to the meeting briefs. And what was with all these weird names? Who would name their kid Draco?

Before Sakaki tried to covertly signal Karasuma to scry the bleached-haired man, he was gone and his son was pushing past others in line to pay for books. Though he hadn't heard anything concrete, someone somewhere was planning something that apparently has to do with some guy named Harry Potter. Some spy he was.

"Oh, no, dear. I'm buying Harry's books for him this year. These past few months have been such a terrible burden on him."

Sakaki's ears perked up as he caught sight of a flame-haired, middle-aged woman talking to the bookstore clerk. She seemed harmless and this was the perfect chance to prove himself as a successful undercover agent. Skillfully maneuvering himself closer, he bravely walked up to the woman.

Swallowing the quickly rising bile back down his throat, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Excuse me, ma'am, but when you said 'Harry,' did you mean Harry Potter?" Straight and to the point. Amon was going to kill him.

Instead of looking confused or looking as if she had heard the name of some dark demon, the woman seemed to be accustomed to being asked the oddball question.

"Why, yes. Harry Potter is a friend of my son, Ronald Weasley. You may have heard of him as well. He was just awarded prefect! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Oh, yeah...uh...brilliant."

The red-haired woman laughed. "Exactly what my Ronnie would say."

Michael's quick tutorial about stereotypical British slang was paying off.

"What year are you in, honey?"

"Huh...oh...uh...year...uh...hey, I see one of my friends. Let me wave her over." Sakaki stopped short of jumping on the table and crooning an embarrassing love song to get Karasuma's attention. She walked over to him with a questioning glance to the bright red head.

"Kara...uh...Kara, this is oh...um...Mrs. Weasly, I suppose, and she knows Harry Potter."

Karasuma seemed to be the better undercover agent and a quicker thinker than Sakaki was. "Oh really, how wonderful. It must be a blessing to know him."

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "I suppose you could say that, though he and my son get into far too much trouble nowadays."

"Boys will be boys, no matter how famous."

"True, true. Oh dear, I must be getting back soon. Teenage boys can eat so much, butcan't make anything for themselves."

Karasuma grabbed one of the bags and handed it to Mrs. Weasley, cupping the woman's hand as she did so. "Have a wonderful day, Mrs Weasley."

"Please, Molly. And thank you, Kara. Pleasure to meet you too...um...oh I don't think I quite caught your name, dear."

"Haru, ma'am. And the pleasure's all mine."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and jumbled past the rest of the customers, balancing the large number of packages in her hands.

Sakaki looked apologetically at Karasuma for almost spilling her name and prepared for the mother load of all reprimands. Instead she turned to him with a worried and serious expression.

"We need to find Amon."

The alleyway was littered with people who would have easily secured a place in the STN-J database. His choice in black robes matched that of virtually everyone there. Amon uneasily admitted to himself that he fit in a little too perfectly with those shopping in Knockturn Alley.

It was not by a stroke of luck that had gotten Amon and his team into the large plaza hidden behind a brick wall. A substance called floo powder had been an option, but Amon couldn't trust Sakaki nor Doujima to get to the right place and couldn't afford to lose them into enemy hands. However, an insider at the Ministry of Magic had bestowed the STN-E with information about how to infiltrate Diagon Alley. Apparently, the insider had some quarrel with the wizarding community, he himself being unable to use magic and stuck working as a secretary in the ministry.

Though Amon had wanted to interrogate the man, one step through the brick wall told him that any revelation of identities in this place would lead to their immediate deaths or capture. Unwilling to risk that possibility for a talk with a man who had no other recorded encounter with Solomon, Amon decided that his team should stick to observing witches.

He sent Doujima to the clothing store, which would ensure that she would be out of the way as well as provide insight into whether their attire from STN-E storage facility was accurate enough to pass for further investigations. Doujima certainly had an eye for detail when it came to fashion. She'd be the best candidate for this particular investigation, though he shuddered to think about the future conversation they would have about the clothing.

Sakaki had been extremely pale, so he had sent both Sakaki and Karasuma to find out anything pertaining to strange happenings, and more importantly, Sirius Black. Hopefully Karasuma would get some useful information.

Michael was left with Zaizen in STN-E headquarters. He was monitoring their situation, though once inside the new world, all contact had been severed due to some jamming devices to the outside world. The Ministry, it seemed, had a tyrannical control over this area. Covertly talking into hidden microphones probably would have attracted too much attention anyway, though Amon may have fit in with some of the crazier people in Knockturn Alley who seemed to be having animated discussions with an invisible friend.

Robin had accompanied Amon as far as the entrance to Knockturn Alley, but both realized that a girl with pigtails, whether wearing black or not, was not going to fit the bill in this area. He instead sent Robin to observe some of the younger children and teenagers and see if they had any outrageous stories that sounded very similar to their case.

Amon glanced down a particularly crowded side street. He had regretted leaving Robin behind. Zaizen would not be happy with his decision. He needed to keep a close eye on her, but the decision was unavoidable, and Knockturn Alley looked to possess a wealth of dark knowledge that they needed to solve the case. Amon was pretty attuned to Robin's mannerisms, and if she had changed, he'd know what the cause was. Amon ignored the fact that observing one's own partner on a regular basis before being told to do so was not proper protocol for Solomon or any other organization.

The first normal looking man (i.e. one without a hump, typical witch-like warts or imaginary companion) caught Amon's attention. He had bleached blond hair and seemed to be of noble upbringing. His stride was confident, his nose was held high, he carried a cane unlike the wooden and misshapen one's he's seen already and the man's robes were obviously expensive, even to an untrained eye. The man also seemed to be walking to a particularly destination.

Putting his tracking skills to good use, he discreetly followed the man into a store filled with odd objects and, thankfully, with other people as well. Having trained for many years, Amon honed in on the man's conversation with his heightened senses, ignoring the other people around him. The moving severed hand seemed as good as any to pretend to be looking at.

"Master Malfoy. A pleasure to see you, sir. I assume you've come for that package."

"I hope everything is in order, for your sake."

"Of course, of course. I would never do anything that would upset you or You-Know-Who."

Amon blinked at the odd reference.

"Yes, the Dark Lord would not be too forgiving with any mistakes. I'm sure both you and your family would appreciate being on his good side, hmmmm."

"Why, yes. Yes, of course." The man hurriedly shuffled into the backroom.

"Dark Lord" sounded promising. A title like that is usually never a good sign in any context. Either they were talking about Sirius Black or they were referring to someone else of higher status. He was leaning toward the latter. Even with a name like "Sirius," to call him the Dark Lord when his last name is in fact "Black" would have been a little too hokey.

The pale man came back and handed the distinguished gentleman a wooden box no larger than a pencil case. They began dancing around pleasantries and the conversation was losing interest. Amon exited the store and hid in a dark alleyway. He needed more information about this Dark Lord, and there was one direct way of getting it. The darkness will hide his identity and it was doubtful that any law enforcement or righteous citizen would disrupt his interrogation. His team was not here either, which would save him the time of explaining to them his own brutal methods. Solomon trained him for this purpose, and it was necessary in the situation. The nobleman had looked easy enough to scare. People like him usually are.

The man walked out and approached Amon's alleyway. The nobleman would not be used to seeing in the dark. Amon was.

When the man was completely out of sight from the main street, Amon pinned the man to the wall, knocking his cane and covering his mouth. Amon was slightly surprised to see a tattoo of a skull with a snake as a tongue on the nobleman's wrist. Ignoring the odd marking, he reached into the man's coat pocket, retrieved the wand and held it to the man's face.

"You and I both know that no one here will save you, so I would suggest not doing anything unnecessary if you want to keep your head," Amon said lowering the register of his voice at least two octaves. He released his hand from the man's mouth but kept him securely pinned to the wall. Something Amon was quietly appreciating about these new witches was their predictable inability to fight physically. They learned to use their crafts at a distance and hand-to-hand combat seemed to be a very last resort. He wouldn't have to worry about kicking, but he would have to worry about why someone would attack this man. The robbery scenario seemed best.

"Now, would you be so kind as to tell me where your money is?"

"Fool, do you have any idea who I am?"

"Malfoy, right. I'm sure you'll survive after losing only a small percentage of your bank roll."

Malfoy chuckled. "I work for Lord Voldemort." Malfoy shuddered beneath Amon's arm as he said it, as if he himself would suddenly be cursed for uttering his master's name. "I'm sure you've heard the name. I am his faithful servant, and if you don't release me right now, you will suffer a most terrible death."

Amon considered the words and then remembered the clerk's obvious fear in saying the name. "You say his name freely. Are you sure you should be admitting this affiliation to me?"

"Pfft. And who exactly would believe you. Not only do those ministry fools think the Dark Lord is dead, they would not possibly believe a scum-sucking hobo over me. You're probably nothing but a filthy mudblood."

Though Amon hadn't heard the word before, he was sure it was derogatory in some way, so he decided to act as if he were offended. He gave a solid punch across Malfoy's face. Unfortunately the blow seemed to have knocked him out. Amon sighed. He hadn't thought that would have knocked anyone unconscious.

He looked around. Leaving without something would be a problem. Malfoy would get suspicious if he had been assaulted by a thief and not had anything stolen. Amon rummaged through the man's clothing despite the dirty feeling that he was getting. Pocketing the man's money purse which he was assuring himself would come in handy since the money system seemed to be different here, he caught a glimpse of the box that Malfoy had fussed over. Though the box was a mystery and taking it would probably cause a lot of trouble, he would be remiss if he let someone named Lord Voldemort or the Dark Lord receive what he wanted.

Amon stuffed the box in his robes. The robes were becoming handy in concealing many hidden objects. The cane would be too obvious to everyone else that he had just ransacked Malfoy. He had to leave before Malfoy awoke or others found them. He broke the wand in half and retreated away from the alley and the store in case anyone had seen Malfoy walk into the shadows. Amon decided to keep low in Knockturn Alley before making his way back toward Diagon Alley.


	4. Chapter 3: Mistakes and Consequences

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter...otherwise I would have made a second season of WHR..

Chapter 3: Mistakes and Consequences

Robin watched some of the children peer curiously down Knockturn Alley and bet each other who could get the closest or even touch the wall. Even though Amon had been gone for half an hour, she hadn't moved away from the original spot where he left her. She also hadn't really observed any of the children closely. It's not like she was obsessed with Amon, but she couldn't think of a more appropriate word to describe it.

To say he was nice to her would be an outright lie, and he didn't seem particularly interested in her either. Even though he was cold to her, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something beyond the icy exterior. Amon was far too enigmatic to concretely say one thing or the other.

In the beginning he had been harsh to her, though she didn't know if he was always like that to new recruits. She was young and inexperienced, and Amon seemed to prefer methods that were direct. After the first few hunts, she began to respect his decisions, even if she didn't see the value of those glasses he always made her wear. He in turn seemed to respect her a little more. When she had been so fervent about the girl Chie being a witch, Amon had been the only one to help her and keep helping her even after Chief Kosaka had yelled at everyone.

Robin sat down on a bench and gracefully folded her hands together. Recently Amon seemed more reclusive than usual. He always seemed so confident about everything. Now he was talking even less than what she thought could be possible and not confiding in either Karasuma or Michael about his plans. He had been spacing out at STN-E headquarters, and he hadn't even registered her proximity until she said his name.

In other words, she was worrying about her partner, and, like the children, her mind and eyes were wandering toward the alley. He'd be mad that she hadn't found out anythingor even attempted to find any information, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything else but sit there and worry. She couldn't lie to Amon, but there was really no excuse she could think of that could pardon her failure to execute her assignment.

She put her feet up on the bench and hugged her knees. She was hopeless. She rested her head on her kneecaps. Maybe obsession was an accurate word for her feelings.

"Robin." Automatically standing up in attention, Robin managed to stare directly into Amon's chest without too much embarrassment. "We're going."

Without waiting for a response he started walking ahead. Trying to catch up without appearing as though she were running, Robin barely managed to keep in tow.

"Do you know where the others are?" Amon said, not even turning his head to glance behind him.

"No, I haven't seen anyone." Amon continued walking while scanning the crowd. Robin followed suit and realized that despite many people wearing black cloaks, none were wearing completely black robes that both Amon and Robin were donning. Their eager paces and searching stares were drawing attention.

Not knowing what else to do, Robin ran up to Amon and grabbed ahold of his arm both slowing his pace down and earning her an angry and semi-confused look (for Amon anyway).

"Everyone's staring," Robin whispered. Amon looked as though he were going to object but suddenly stopped. He looked back over the crowd then down at Robin's face.

"We'll start by going to the main clothing store and see if Doujima is still there." Amon secured Robin's arms surrounding his own left arm and walked in a more casual manner toward his destination. Robin encircled her arms tighter around Amon's until she was literally hugging it. At least this way she looked more like a child than a lover, which was earning the two completely different stares and murmurings than before.

Amon, unwilling to acknowledge what part of the body Robin was pressing into his arm, started walking at a faster pace without resorting to an all-out run toward the clothing store.

"Why, don't you two look cozy?" Doujima seemed to enjoy the predictable reaction from both parties. Amon sent her a death glare, while Robin blushed, hiding her face in the back of his robes.

"You bought a new outfit," Amon stated rather than asked. "I hadn't realized you had any money."

"I don't," Doujima said while twirling around once in her new robes. "But you'd be surprised about how much charm can get you. I'd suggest you try it...if you had a personality."

"Doujima," Robin scolded as best she could, though she regretted that it sounded more like a soft reminder that Amon was still present.

"At any rate, we need to find Sakaki and Karasuma and leave as soon as possible," Amon said, again scanning the perimeter for the two hunters and the slight chance for danger.

"Why are we in a hurry?" Robin asked. Amon looked down at her, and she instinctively hugged his arm tighter, inciting an odd jerky movement of Amon's head to the other direction. He was definitely acting different than usual.

"We'll hold a meeting later. Right now just do as I say."

Robin buried her head into Amon's arm or the part of his robe that contained his arm. She seemed to be offending him in some way. For some reason he seemed to react this way to a lot of the things she's said recently.

A slap on the back brought her attention back to the real world. "C'mon, Robin, let's get moving." Doujima smiled encouragingly. Robin smiled back and continued to follow Amon who had tried to move earlier and failed when she didn't budge. Doujima walked alongside and gave Robin insinuating looks toward her and Amon until Robin ignored her completely by looking in the other direction.

Doujima's flashy attire was creating a stir among the men in Diagon Alley, and Robin was grateful that the attention slid off of her and Amon, though she still refused to free his arm. Doujima's new robes also caught the attention of someone else.

"Yurika," Karasuma yelled getting their attention. She and Sakaki caught up with them. "We gathered some information - "

"Good," Amon interrupted. "We'll talk about it later. We're leaving."

Karasuma gave Robin a confused look, to which Robin responded with an equally confused shrug. All five hunters made their way to the exit through one of the hotels. Loitering outside the hotel, a group of rowdy boys wearing silver and green laced robes bumped into the group and knocked Sakaki over. Acting on autopilot, Sakaki jumped to his feet and reached for his gun under his jacket. Both the jacket and the gun were not there, but the movement had not gone unnoticed by the boys.

"You were just about to draw your wand on me," said the lead boy with slicked blond hair.

Robin looked quickly at Sakaki and Amon, both of whom seemed to recognize the child in some way.

"What? Changed your mind, coward?" the boy taunted.

Sakaki, seething because of the magic word that seems to incur the wrath of every boy his age, blurted, "A witch like you would be the coward if I had my gun."

The boy raised an eyebrow, and the other hunters suddenly became very rigid.

"Gun?"

"We're leaving," Amon said, roughly grubbing Sakaki by the collar and making his way through the hotel as quickly as possible, almost literally dragging Robin as her feet tried to keep up with the rest of her body. Doujima and Karasuma followed, and the group didn't stop until they reached the safe building Solomon had bought for hunters who needed close quarters to Diagon Alley.

Amon threw Sakaki onto the couch and disentangled himself from Robin's arms. For the first time since she's met Amon, Robin became very scared of what he planned to do next. She's never heard him yell, though his vault of insults never seemed to run dry. Robin desperately tried to read Amon's face which was hidden behind a curtain of black hair.

Though she could not see his face, Sakaki looked like he could and his expression worried her greatly. She was about to step forward when Karasuma grabbed her shoulders and forced her to stay in place. Robin whipped her head around to see if either Karasuma or Doujima were going to help, but neither were moving. Karasuma gave her an understanding look but shook her head. Robin refocused her attention on Amon and a very scared Sakaki.

"Change your clothes, and we'll head back to STN-E headquarters." Amon's voice was incredibly even and as he went into one of the rooms to change out his robes, he hadn't stomped or slammed anything. Robin wasn't sure whether the lack of a response was better or worse than blowing up at Sakaki. The two women seemed relieved, though.

"I thought he was really going to give it to you this time," Doujima laughed as she made her way to another room. Sakaki remained speechless and motionless even at Doujima's remark.

"Why don't you get changed, Sakaki," Karasuma gently suggested guiding him toward another room.

"Yeah, and if you need clean underwear, I'm sure you'll find some in the closet," Doujima added.

Karasuma gave her a reproving glare, helped Sakaki into his room and closed the door after him.

Without Karasuma's hands holding her shoulders, Robin had slumped to the floor. She looked at Karasuma when the woman kneeled down in front of her. Even though she was only 19, Robin looked to her for the kind of support a mother would give her. She always took care of the team after they were battered down by Chief Kosaka or ignored by Amon. Karasuma had been the one to make her feel better when Amon had taken Sakaki on patrol over his own partner. Her powers had grown into understanding human thought as well as emotion, but she didn't seem to use either in guessing what was wrong with Robin.

"Sakaki has messed up before," Karasuma said soothingly. "Other hunters have also while under Amon's command. I've never seen nor heard of Amon ever losing control and physically hurting another hunter." Karasuma smiled and brushed away some of Robin's hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

"Amon doesn't feel it is his job to scold anyone," Karasuma continued to explain. "He plans out the strategies, leads the team during the cases and briefs us afterward. If anyone would directly scold someone it is usually the Chief or Zaizen, especially if it requires talking for longer than one sentence." Karasuma gave Robin another concerned look when the girl didn't respond to the obvious jab at Amon's loquacity.

Robin smiled as best she could, though failing to trick Karasuma whose job it was to read emotions. She laughed slightly. "There's no need to force yourself to suddenly accept all of what I've said. I've been scared before too. He's quite an ominous man, isn't he?"

Robin smiled genuinely. "Why don't you go and change. Amon seems to be in a hurry."

"I want to talk to Amon first," Robin said, summoning her courage. Karasuma blanched.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now, Robin," Karasuma warned. "Amon may not hurt you physically, but he's not very understanding of someone's feelings when he's angry. Well, less than usual when he's angry. Don't go looking for trouble, Robin. Get changed, and I'll get you some private time with Amon later."

"What happens if Amon doesn't want to talk later?"

"He will," Karasuma reassured Robin. Guiding her to a room in a similar fashion as Sakaki, Karasuma managed to get Robin to start changing.

* * *

Amon gripped the back of the wooden chair. Fully clothed and waiting for his other team members to get ready, Amon realized that the situation has gotten much worse - worse than any of the other hunters realized. Underestimating the knowledge of the boy or his father would be a mistake. As would staying in STN-E headquarters for much longer. 

The boy would most likely tell his father about the odd boy who mentioned a human weapon. Amon was almost positive that Malfoy would already know about the Dark Lord's excursion to the STN-E, which he no longer doubted that this man was behind. There had been a dark magic symbol in the sky the night of the crime and the description fit that tattoo on Malfoy's wrist.

The information that new hunters have come to England would then be pieced together by Lord Voldemort or by Malfoy himself. If Malfoy were smart, he'd also realize that not many people in Knockturn Alley would have had the gall tomug him, which would leave him with one conclusion - the man who attacked him was a hunter.

Amon's grip on the chair tightened and some parts began to splinter. If Malfoy realizes that, he'll also know that the box is in the possession of the hunters. If the box is as important as Amon believed it to be, then nothing is going to stand in the way of this Lord Voldemort retrieving the box at all costs.

STN-E headquarters will be the first place they'd look. He'll need to get Michael to copy all of the files he can and then destroy the hard copies. The files on the computer should be safe as the witches in England seem to have no knowledge of computers or electronics. A simple firewall should protect the system. They'd have to evacuate to another STN-E hideaway, but there were no records of what buildings have been discovered and which are safe.

Amon bit his lip. If Zaizen and Solomon wanted to continue the investigation, the likelihood of the STN-J being killed off was high. Even if they were ordered to go back to Tokyo, there was still the problemof what to do with the box.

He could potentially leave it at headquarters, but then he'd be going against his own sense of justice and morality (whatever little he thought he had left). The only possibility is to send the others home while he himself hides out in England and takes care of the box. However, Lord Voldemort seems to be flashy in his killing style (assuming that he had some part in the murder of the other hunters) and it probably won't stop him from killing as many innocent people as possible to get to him and the box. Suddenly living like a hermit in some unknown desert was sounding very appealing.

Sakaki entered the room and looked torn between going back into his room and staying in the main room alone with Amon.

Amon couldn't directly blame Sakaki for everything. His action put everything else into motion, but Amon had been the one to take the box, and that will be the reason why they are being pursued.

Karasuma, as if sensing the possibility for hostility, emerged from her room and went over to talk to Sakaki. Robin was next and was pulled aside by Karasuma, though Robin looked like she was going to go to Amon. He always knew Karasuma was the most useful member of the team.

Doujima was predictably the last to get ready. They all looked to Amon for some clue as to what will happen next. He didn't feel it was necessary to break it to them all at once.

"We're heading back to headquarters," Amon said, releasing his hold on the chair. "We'll decide from there what to do next." He picked up his bag and looked for the others to do the same. "We'll all go out at once. It's no longer necessary to hide our numbers or our faces. Depending on how fast information has been passed on about us, the man we're looking for already knows who we are. Let's go."

With that, Amon walked out the door and four very scared team members did the same. Amon was never one for consolation.


	5. Chapter 4: Dire Situations

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter...otherwise I would have made a second season of WHR.

Chapter 4: Dire Situations and Dwindling Options

Karasuma anxiously looked through the files at STN-E headquarters. She was unsure of how much more time they had, but she wanted to get this done as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, her partner wasn't making any progress on his side.

Not that she could blame him. The situation was out of control, and the possibility of becoming the hunted was unsettling to everyone. She'd been doing this job for three years, but it seemed like an eternity. By any right, she should be attending a college somewhere, dating some guy for a few months and only worrying about what topic she should write her term paper on. Right now, Karasuma was worrying about whether or not she will be alive tomorrow.

She was glad to hear Zaizen order her to go downstairs instead of staying in a room where people had been massacred. Amon seemed to be mad that she was sent to the archives, but he was particularly dim-witted when it came to human emotion. Karasuma felt bad for Robin on what seemed like a consistent basis recently. The poor girl was in love with an oaf, whom Karasuma knew was aware of the girl's feelings on some level.

Even if their relationship was complicated and bound to failure, Karasuma almost envied Robin's tragic love. At least she felt something strongly. Karasuma couldn't remember a time when she felt a strong emotion of her own, apart from all of the people she's scryed. The more people she touched, the less she felt alive. She looked to her partner, still dazed at the recent news.

She decided to give him a distraction from his own overpowering thoughts of death. Unfortunately, work was the only thing she had in common with Sakaki, or any of the other members of the team for that matter. Maybe she was just a kinder, female version of Amon.

"Sakaki, there's no point in looking through these files any longer," Karasuma said, startling the boy out of his reverie. "They don't mention anything about a Lord Voldemort or a Sirius Black. Why don't we go upstairs and see if any of the others have found something?"

Sakaki brightened while Karasuma felt an impending doom. She really was like a mother sometimes. She would sacrifice herself to make another person happy. Yet again, someone else would feel an emotion she no longer believed she was capable of feeling on her own.

"Good idea, Karasuma-san," Sakaki said. He eagerly ran up the stairs, and Karasuma trailed after him. Amon was going to make her scry the blood stains.

"Karasuma." She shuddered as her name was said by the one person she really didn't want to approach her. Apparently he wanted to catch her before Zaizen did. "We won't have a second chance here, and I need you to scry the scene."

"Where's Zaizen?" Karasuma asked hopefully, thinking some intervention may be in store.

"He and Michael are in the meeting room, copying files and searching for a safe location," Amon replied, misinterpreting her response, most likely on purpose. "You can scry out here." He pointed to a stain on the wall.

Feeling like a dog performing a trick, Karasuma kneeled down and prepared herself for the worst.

Flashes of green light appeared before her, and a man with snake-like eyes peered at her through a long cloak. He was saying something, but her powers were not developed well enough to include sound. Everyone around her was dying with a simple spell. They fell backward and hit the floor almost immediately after getting hit by the green light. The man was the only one there, yet he was easily defeating all of her comrades who have had years of training and experience.

Another green light flashed. She felt an overwhelming fear before it hit her. She fell to the ground without any time to scream.

"Karasuma-san! Miho!" She opened her eyes to see Sakaki hovering above her and desperately looking at her for signs of life. His yell had attracted the attention of Michael and Zaizen, the latter looking very pissed off.

Sakaki's hand on her forehead brought her attention back to her partner. "Are you okay, Karasuma-san?"

"Yes," Karasuma said, getting up slowly. Doujima helped her to her feet, while Sakaki held her up from behind. His hands lingered, holding her still, and she couldn't help but blush a little at the feelings of concern that washed over her when an errand finger brushed across her neck. He had also yelled her first name a few seconds earlier. Sometimes even she acted like a silly school girl in a shoujo manga, but she honestly couldn't remember the last time any guy had been really concerned or worried about her. She held back the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes. It helped to look at Amon, who seemed unfazed by her attack. He really is a bastard.

"What's going on," Zaizen said, pretending to be concerned about Karasuma and unconcerned about what she may have seen. His act didn't trick her, and from Amon's look, he wasn't buying it either.

"I saw the man...or thing that attacked the hunters," Karasuma said. "He had the body of a normal human being as far as I could tell, but his eyes and nose looked similar to a snake's." Karasuma tried to think of any more distinguishing features on the man's face and attire that could help them find him, but instead she realized why Amon had been so insistent on making her scry the crime scene. She'll mentally apologize to him later.

"There was only one man, and none of the hunters who were killed were dismembered." She looked at Zaizen pointedly. "How could there have been blood stains everywhere if the hunters were already dead. The witch had killed them with a killing spell, not any sort of brutal attack."

The group of hunters looked at Zaizen. "I'm not sure how that's possible," he said, still in his unconvincing tone of surprise. "The factory crew in England is an elite task force, and its doctors and morticians are the best in the world. You've only seen a portion of the memory, Karasuma, and you're powers are not at its peak stages yet. This man may have used some sort of strange dark magic afterward to mutilate the bodies."

The words were even, but if there's one clear indication of guilt, it's a rambling speech. Besides, Amon seemed to be set against him from the start.

"The surveillance tapes. Where are they?" Amon certainly knew how to get to a point quickly.

"The factory took the original tapes," Michael said. "I couldn't access the footage through the system."

"What about the copies? Solomon protocol is to send all evidence or copies of evidence to the investigating team." Karasuma thought Amon was going to start reciting lines from the manual word for word. It wouldn't necessarily surprise her, though Zaizen seemed less than happy with his team leader's affluence with regulations.

"They're in my office in Tokyo," Zaizen stated.

"Strange. They should have been brought here." Amon stood in front of Zaizen daring him to say something. If there was one thing Amon was especially gifted in, it was staring someone down. Squirming was a notable reaction by every unlucky person who found themselves on the receiving end of his cold stare, and that was exactly what Zaizen was doing.

Amon broke the silence first. "I assume you looked at the tapes, at least." He chose not to pause for an answer. "Why then do you only think he 'may' have used dark magic? You should know, shouldn't you?"

Zaizen was up against a wall, and no amount of lying was going to fool Amon or Karasuma into thinking anything else. The other hunters seemed to be slowly catching up, and the confused faces were replaced with curious and angry ones, with the exception of Robin whom Karasuma doubted could react in an angry way.

Karasuma knew there was no way out for Zaizen and apparently so did he. He reached for his gun.

Before Karasuma or Amon had a chance to react, Michael hit Zaizen in the crook of his neck withhis portablekeyboard, effectively knocking the man unconscious. "I always wanted to do that," Michael smiled triumphantly.

"Yes, but now we won't be able to get any answers from him," Amon said.

"Oh. But I saved your life," Michael countered hopefully.

"Do you really think that I wouldn't have been able to disarm him before he let out a shot?"

"Oh." Michael looked down at his shoes. Karasuma decided to repeal her earlier notion of apologizing. Amon deserved the title.

"It's alright, Michael," Karasuma said, walking over to Michael and putting her hand on his shoulder. She was thankful that she was able to walk steadily over to him without falling. "I would have done the same if I were in your shoes. Thank you."

Michael smiled at her as Sakaki grabbed him by the shoulders and started congratulating him too. Karasuma looked at Amon checking Zaizen's pulse. She really was like a mother, cleaning up after someone else's mess.

"We need to get out of here soon," Amon said, interrupting Sakaki's speech to Michael. "Finding a place will be difficult, though."

"Michael found some hideaways on the computer, right?" Sakaki said, slapping Michael on the back. Karasuma decided to take this one before both boys received hurt feelings from Amon.

"We can no longer trust Solomon, Sakaki," Karasuma reminded gently. "They tried to trick us with this case, and now we've acted in a sort of mutinous fashion by taking out the boss. Those safe havens are all under Solomon control. We can't stay there."

Sakaki looked over at Michael. "There weren't by chance any safe hiding places not under Solomon control?"

"If there were, they'd still be on a database, easily accessed by other hunters."

"We could try one place," Karasuma said. The others looked at her with hope, but she couldn't help but feel she was going to put everyone else in mortal danger. She only wanted to use this as a last resort. Apparently, now was as good as ever. "I scryed a woman today in the bookshop in Diagon Alley. Sakaki had alerted me to a possible lead." She looked over to her partner who was furiously blushing from the uncharacteristic praise of his work as a field agent.

"When I lookedat what she was thinking about, the memory included the name of Sirius Black, a possible reference to the Dark Lord and an address." She looked at Amon directly. "However, I think it's some sort of hideout for a group of very powerful witches. If we were to go there, I'm not sure what we'd do or what we could accomplish."

Karasuma could see Amon's wheels turning in his head. Both she and Amon knew that they didn't have many options left, especially if a group of dark witches and Solomon hunters were on their tails.

"We'll go to the address," Amon said clearly. "Did you see any alliance to this Dark Lord?"

"No. If what I saw was the truth, they are in opposition to him."

Sakaki smiled. "Well, an enemy of our enemy - "

"Is still our enemy," Amon interrupted. "They are still witches. They may be of use to us, but don't let your guard down. We don't know what to expect from them." Amon looked at Zaizen. "We can't leave him here for the witches to find." He closed his eyes and sighed. For the first time, Karasuma saw Amon as a very tired man who had grown up far too fast.

"Karasuma, take Robin and burn the hard copies of the files in the archives," Amon ordered. "There's no point in worrying about whether anything else will catch fire. We no longer need to keep this building intact. Michael, you and Sakaki will need to put some safeguard on the files, at least so the witches can't access them. Doujima and I will take care of him."

Karasuma led Robin to the vault where everything was up in flames in no time. Yurika hadn't said anything during the revelation, and she had gotten a little suspicious of her, especially since she doesn't generally keep her mouth shut at any point in time. Yurika may pretend to be interested only in fashion magazines and sleep, but Karasuma knew better. Yurika was hiding something, and she was certain that was half of the reason why Amon took her with him.

When Robin was finished, the two met up with Michael and Sakaki upstairs. Amon and a more fidgety Yurika followed after. The group hurriedly exited the flat.

"So where is the boss now?" Michael asked.

"In an alley looking very homeless in tattered witch robes," Amon replied. He looked at Karasuma. "Where are we heading to now?"

* * *

Twelve Grimmauld Place was grimy and filthy, though Snape supposed it was fitting for Sirius Black. The raggedy and older looking man sat furthest away from him, to which both parties, he was sure, were happy about. This time he had actually been the one to call a meeting. Albus Dumbledore would definitely want to hear this news, though another enemy in the midst was never a pleasant topic of discussion. 

Remus Lupin was already failing at any attempt to lure the werewolves to their side. The man may have been the only one able to match his grades during school, but Lupin was still a half-breed and a Marauder, so in Snape's eyes - fated to fail at everything sooner or later. As he expected, only Alastor Moody had shown up from the group of aurors. The others had jobs to pretend to be loyal to at the Ministry and could not attend on short notice.

Transfiguration professor Minerva McGonagall was one of the few other teachers at Hogwarts who was part of the Order. Unfortunately, she was also a Gryffindor and thwarted his attempts at taking numerous points away from Potter and his band of dimwits. Overall, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin, Black, Moody and the Weasleys were the only ones present, though Snape had a sneaking suspicion that the brat pack upstairs would be eavesdropping on their conversation. Considering Mundungus Fletcher had no occupation, he was supposed to have been here too, but Snape saw no real use in his scalping abilities anyway.

"Why don't we get started?" Dumbledore kindly suggested, though Snape believed the old man felt the same way about the missing member. "Severus, what news have you brought us?"

"Bad news to be honest," Snape began. "Last night, the Dark Lord killed a group of Solomon hunters in London."

"Really?" Black said with feigned interest. "It's already all over muggle newspapers, Snivellus."

"Please, Sirius," Dumbledore warned in schoolteacher mode. Snape almost expected Black to be sent to a corner to think about what he's done. "Continue, Severus."

"As I was saying, the Dark Lord killed the hunters last night, but today, Draco Malfoy encountered a group of individuals that the Dark Lord has perceived to be hunters. However, they were inside of Diagon Alley when it happened." Snape thought that would get their attention. The murmurs began.

"I was just there this afternoon," Molly Weasley said horrified. "How awful that these hunters now have access to our children." The woman still seemed shaken from her earlier clash with a boggart, which Snape had been warned previously by Dumbledore not to say anything alluding to the death of her children or husband. The old man really knew how to spoil the fun.

"Lucius Malfoy was also attacked today in Knockturn Alley," Snape said. Ignoring the side comment from Black that sounded like "serves the git right," Snape continued. "The Dark Lord believes the attack is related to the hunters. The assailant hadn't used a wand, but used brute force instead. While the Dark Lord would usually not be bothered by muggle attacks on his Death Eaters, this hunter had stolen something of value from Lucius."

"What was it?" Lupin asked breaking his silence and deferring his attention away from restraining Black.

"I don't know," Snape uneasily admitted. "The Dark Lord said nothing of the item, nor was Lucius in any position to say anything. All I know is that the Dark Lord will stop at nothing to retrieve it. A search party has already been sent to the group's headquarters, but it had been evacuated, and all of the files were burned. None of the Death Eaters have been able to trace the band of hunters."

The group fell silent. The lack of knowledge pertaining to the whereabouts of the hunters was obviously making the Weasley woman nervous. And she should be. No one has ever been able to gather concrete information about the group, because everyone who has approached them has been killed, with the exception of the Dark Lord, whom he doubted would be willing to share information. The hunters were known to have a 100 percent success rate, and adult witches, who knew of their existence, lived in fear that one day they could be hunted. Everyone had been disillusioned into thinking that they were safe in England,surrounded by such a large wizarding community. Apparently they were wrong.

Dumbledore's mischievous glint was no longer present, and even Black managed to keep his mouth shut. The silence didn't last long. Mrs. Black's screech could be heard loud and clear in the dining room turned meeting room.

Black sighed. "What's Dung done this time?" He got out of his chair with a grunt but stopped short when her words reached the group's ears.

"FILTHY MUGGLES NOW? MY HOUSE HAS GONE TO RUIN! MUGGLES ARE IN MY HOUSE! MUGGLES!"


	6. Chapter 5: 12 Grimmauld Place

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter...otherwise I would have made a second season of WHR.

Chapter 5: 12 Grimmauld Place

Somehow, Doujima lost track of her life and her duty to Solomon over the last two hours. She was inexplicably lost. For more than a year, she had fooled everyone into thinking she was a spoiled brat who received this job from lineage rather than talent. Frankly, some of it was true, but she was also hired to spy on Zaizen and his production of orbo.

She understood that the assignment would be of considerable length. To gain the trust of all of the hunters and the boss would take time. Initially, she planned to seduce the team leader and get him to talk, but two seconds in the same room with Amon blew that idea out of the water. Amon also didn't seem to know what the orbo was made up of or what Zaizen intended to use it for.

Unluckily for her, Amon was untrusting of everyone, and he was the only direct link to Zaizen. She rarely saw the boss when she was at work, and he was impossible to track. Getting Chief Kosaka to hook her up in a meeting with Zaizen would be a problem seeing as a) the chief hated her and b) it would have ruined her persona as the lazy brat.

Now everything was catching up with her. She had been so surprised by the turn of events with Zaizen that she failed to put on a performance of her own. Amon did not miss her slip up and approached her in the alleyway when they were dumping Zaizen off to a safer place.

At some point, Amon already had more than an inkling that she was a spy for the main headquarters. She ended up telling him that Zaizen was the only one she intended to betray and that the other hunters were her friends who should not worry about her loyalty to them. Similarly to every other suggestion or comment she's ever given Amon, he simply turned away in response. Thankfully, he said nothing to the others before they headed out to this run-down place. Everyone already had enough on their minds without worrying about a possible traitor in their midst.

Karasuma led them directly to the address, but seeing as they had no wand, they couldn't figure out how to get inside. That is, before a very drunk looking man approached the space in between 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place. Without a plan, the group had leapt into action and forced the scared drunkard to lead them into the house.

For some reason she expected a quiet, thief-like entry. She was wrong.

The screeching of a woman echoed through the doorway, and Michael closed the door so they would not draw attention from people outside. Amon, Karasuma and Sakaki already had their guns drawn, so she quickly followed suit. That's when a group of odd looking individuals ran out of an adjoining room.

One gruff, gaunt, but intriguingly handsome man had closed a batch of curtains, and the screeching abruptly stopped. Was it some sort of alarm device? Even if it was, she didn't know what "muggles" referred to.

The two groups were at a standstill with one lone man in between who looked as though he were about to vomit and wet his pants at the same time. Some of the ragtag group in front of them didn't seem to be as afraid as she thought they should be.

All of the members of their group were holding out wands. Doujima thought that she would start laughing but held it back as best as she could. Sakaki's shaking shoulders also looked as though he were struggling with the image as well.

The lead man was incredibly old, maybe in his 80s or 90s. Another woman near him was no spring chicken herself, though she wore fashionable cat-like glasses. The two redheads, the woman she assumed was the one Karasuma scryed, weren't far behind, though the man was looking at the guns with more interest than fear. Another man stood behind the black-haired guy she noticed earlier. This one looked the most ragged of the group and had strange claw marks across his face.

The man behind him looked absolutely terrifying. Was his eye really moving like that? On second thought, what happened to the rest of his face? Doujima quickly averted her eyes before she lost all of her courage, and she ended up looking at the last in the group. She almost mistook him for Amon - tall, dark hair, pale skin and flowing black clothing. However, on second glance, she noticed that he was much older with a larger nose and greasy hair. He fit the profile of someone who would be hunting them right now.

The space in between the stairway and the door was incredibly narrow. Amon was in front, while Karasuma and Sakaki were beside him. Doujima thanked whatever god gave her the position she found herself in, as she was behind the three hunters and closer to the door. Robin was behind Amon, peeking in between him and Karasuma, though Amon was too tall and had too broad of shoulders for her to see much of anything. Michael was staying as far back as possible. Doujima almost forgot that he had never been in the field before. What a way to start.

Doujima was also thankful for the lack of light in the hallway. People are always surprised to see how young they are. While ordinarily it would be best for the hunters to be underestimated,in this situation, Doujima didn't think that these witches should start feeling any more superior than they already did. She hoped Amon's height would intimidate some of them.

Amon was the first to speak. "Put your wands away now or we will shoot. If you're not aware of what our weapons are capable of, I assure you, you don't want to be."

Amon's deep and cold voice seemed to be having a better effect on the group, but it didn't scare them into lowering their wands.

"Do you really think we're that stupid?" the gruffy man asked. "We put down our wands, and you'll shoot us. Besides, I've seen how guns work. Most people, even trained professionals, can't shoot accurately all the time, even if they weren't against high class wizards."

Doujima had seen Amon at the shooting range, and if there were anything she could find fault in, accuracy was definitely not one of them. The old man seemed to not be as quick to underestimate the hunters.

"If we are to put our wands away, you must give us your word that you won't shoot," he said.

"Their word?" the man barked. "Dumbledore, you've got to be kidding me."

The scarred man nudged him and whispered something into his ear, leading both of them to glance upward then remain silent.

Amon seemed to be considering the proposition. "We are not here to arrest any of you," Amon finally said, clearing up the misunderstanding. "You have our word."

The group of witches put their wands back in their robes, the man with scraggly black hair doing so reluctantly. The hunters began to lower their weapons as well when they heard thumping coming from upstairs. "Who else is here?" Amon barked, snapping his weapon back into its original position. The man really did scare her sometimes.

"Please," the red-haired woman begged. "They're just children. Don't hurt them."

Karasuma and Sakaki lowered their guns, and the mature woman elbowed Amon to do the same. Doujima looked around them. The silence was overwhelming.

"We have no intention of hurting anyone here," Karasuma said in a much more trusting voice than Amon. "If we could talk somewhere, we would appreciate it." The witches looked at one another, then filed back into the room they came out of. The hunters followed suit. Everyone seemed okay, though Robin looked confused and Michael was shaking.

The reaction they got when they entered the room was predictable, though Doujima didn't realize Karasuma and Sakaki had made such a memorable impression.

"Wait...but, I saw you," the red-haired woman stumbled over her words. "You helped me carry my bags. You were so nice to me." She gasped. "Both of you look as young as my children."

"We're sorry to have deceived you, Molly wasn't it?" The woman seemed affronted at being called her first name by someone who was just pointing a gun at her. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, then." Miho was always a little too insightful about people's emotions. "We can explain everything if you can let us discuss it properly while seated."

The witches were very cautious, all taking one side of the table while the hunters took the other. Doujima thought this room resembled that of a dining room, but it was too filthy to say for sure. Karasuma had apparently taken the job of talking since Amon doesn't like to do so, and his words usually come out as insults in some way or another.

"We're investigating a crime against our comrades stationed in England," Karasuma began. "They were murdered last night and we believe someone called Lord Voldemort was behind it." The name seemed to have startled the married couple, though the others seemed unperturbed. Karasuma continued, cautious of her words. "We were investigating in Diagon Alley, and our information led us here." Doujima wasn't surprised about the extreme jump from one event to another. These witches did not need to know how they got their information or what was happening now.

"How did you get into Diagon Alley?" the old man asked, obviously the most calm of the group.

"There was a source who had informed the team before us of how to get into the alley. Besides that, I'm afraid I can't tell you any more."

"Why would someone do such a thing?" the oldest woman said more to herself than the hunters.

"I think the most important part is how you found this place," the ragged but apparently smart man said. "How many other people know about this house?"

The group of witches looked anxiously at them. Karasuma looked at Amon to gauge how much information was necessary to share. Amon decided to take over.

"We found this place using a method that no other group of hunters or witches is capable of using. We were not followed, and we did not check in with headquarters to say where we've gone."

The old man raised his eyebrows at this. Before he could say something, Amon continued. "Don't bother asking for any more details. Your secret hiding place is safe, for now. You don't need to know anything else." Doujima rolled her eyes. Trust Amon to still act like a prick in a delicate situation.

"What the hell?" The gruffy man stood up, angrily glaring at Amon. "Is this some sort of joke? It's like we're talking to secret agents about UFOs."

"Sirius." The man with tattered robes stood up and tried to get the other back into his seat. Doujima could see how the scraggly looking man was an escaped convict.

"Why are you here then?" the old man asked, ignoring the previous outburst. "You said you had no intention of hunting us, but your information led you here. You already know that we are not your culprits."

"That's where Mr. Black comes in," Amon said. "We thought he'd be able to lead us in the right direction, since he had been imprisoned." Sirius was about to argue again when Amon cut him off. "However, it appears the man in black will be of more use to us instead."

Doujima looked at Amon, then at the greasy-haired duplicate. Hunters were never allowed to question the decisions of their leader, especially in front of suspects. Doujima decided to approach her curiosity carefully, but Sakaki beat her to the punch.

"Why him?"

"The mark on your arm is an indication you work for Voldemort," Amon said to the gothic dressed witch. "There's no use in denying anything. I've seen it before."

"I'm sorry, but that's not possible," the old man said, standing up abruptly, anticipating where the conversation was headed to. He was scary as well, when motivated to do so. "Severus is a valuable double agent for us. He will be leading no one anywhere that could damage Voldemort's trust in him or lead to his death. I'm sorry, but that's not possible." The old man seemed to consider his next words carefully. "However, we are after the same man. I would like you to join forces with us, at least for a little while, so we can rid this world of him." The old man offered his hand to Amon.

Without looking at any of the other hunters, Amon got up and shook the man's hand. "You have our cooperation in this matter. After Voldemort is dead, I promise nothing else."

The old man smiled at Amon's predictable action and words. "That's all I ask."


	7. Chapter 6: My Side, Your Side

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter.

Chapter 6: My Side, Your Side

Harry rubbed his eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, especially when Mrs. Black went berserk for what seemed like the millionth time that week. He didn't think Tonks was on duty last night. She was usually the culprit. The portrait had said something about muggles, too. Mrs. Black has really lost her mind. Fred and George were too busy reworking their extendable ears, and Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all sleeping, or trying to, so Harry decided not to check it out.

Despite the constant rude awakenings, Harry was extremely happy that he got to live with Sirius and was acquitted of all charges for that dementor incident. He was not so happy when Hermione charged in suddenly.

"Harry! Ron! Wake up!" Hermione seemed overly energetic this morning. "I saw a new girl downstairs. C'mon. Get dressed and let's say hi."

"I'm tired of girls," Ron said sleepily, earning him a one-way trip off the bed. Hermione lifted the sheets and spilled Ron onto the ground. He was better off saying something stereotypical like "I can't eat any more." Trust Ron to say something wrong no matter what the situation.

"Be friendly, Ronald." Mrs. Weasley came in and looked at her son sprawled on the floor. Fred, George and Ginny were behind her snickering at their brother's misfortune. A thought suddenly occurred to Harry.

"Why is everyone in our room?" Harry asked indignantly.

"I have something to tell all of you," Mrs. Weasley said. "If you could take a seat somewhere." Fred and George sat on either side of Harry, covertly showing him their new extendable ears, while Hermione and Ginny sat on Ron's vacated bed. Ron settled on the floor.

"We have some...guests that came by last night," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I saw a girl downstairs - "

"Yes. I know, dear." Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I don't want any of you to be in the same room with them unless there is a group of you."

"What?" Fred said. "What's the matter with the new wizards? Werewolves? Death Eaters? Lepers?"

"No, Fred. They're called hunters," Mrs. Weasley continued. "You've probably never heard of them, and you won't be taught about them in school."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, always suspicious of the supposed failures of her school. "Hogwarts teaches us about all of the dark arts and magical creatures."

"Yes, dear, but they're not creatures. They're muggles."

"Muggles?" Harry said. "Is that why Mrs. Black was acting up?"

"Yes."

"Why should we be afraid of muggles, mum?" Ron asked.

"Because these muggles hunt wizards for a living." All of the kids stared at Mrs. Weasley. "They said they are here to hunt only You-Know-Who, but I don't trust them. Please don't give them a reason to change their minds." Mrs. Weasley looked pointedly at Fred and George.

"What?" George asked, mockingly offended. "Why look at us, mum?"

"Please," Mrs. Weasley said, already exasperated by last night's events. "This is important. I don't want to lose any of you. Please be careful." Mrs. Weasley got up and turned around abruptly. Harry could tell she was hiding her tears from them. Seeing her cry the second time in two days was unnerving him. "They'll be in the reading room for most of the time, and Arthur and I are making sure you won't be eating at the same time. For once, please follow our rules." With that, she left the bedroom.

"You know, she tells us this, but that only makes us more interested. Right, Fred?"

"Right, George."

"Did you hear what she said?" Hermione asked shrilly. "They hunt wizards! They kill people like us for a paycheck! They won't be people we want to talk to."

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled up his sheets trying to escape the conversation. First Voldemort, now this. Why does he never get a year off from trouble?

Hermione pulled his blanket back down. "Tell them I'm right, Harry."

"Well...um...Fred..."

"No need, Harry," Fred said. "Granger's got to understand that we'll benefit from spying on them."

"After all," George continued as if he and Fred were the same person. "Think about the knowledge we could gain from this."

"No one's been able to figure these guys out."

"And we have the opportunity to do so."

"We could expose the inner workings of hunters."

"And save lives."

"Not to mention gather impressive research for a new class or curriculum."

"Someone could even write a book that would be studied by all Hogwarts students."

Both twins looked over at Hermione and said in stereo, "So what do you say, Granger?"

Needless to say, Harry was always impressed by Fred and George, especially when they pulled a stunt like this.

"Okay," Hermione conceded. "But we go as a group. No apparating."

"Deal." The three got up and shook hands. "Get dressed, Harry. We want to catch one of them before they retreat into the reading room." The two girls and the twins left the room, most likely waiting outside for them to get ready.

"What just happened?" Ron asked dumbfounded.

"Let's just get ready and see where it takes us."

* * *

Robin's head was swimming. Amon told them they should get some sleep since he didn't know when they'd have another chance to do so. The others seemed capable of sleeping, but Robin couldn't quiet her mind. The entire month had been hard on her. First she found the Arcanum from the witch of longevity and while awaiting orders from Father Juliano, she met the Inquisitor who not-so-subtly implied that her powers were that of a witch's. Now she was in a house full of people whom she would normally be sent to hunt. 

Another reason why she wasn't sleeping was because Amon had disappeared somewhere. Robin didn't know these witches well enough to go anywhere alone, but that didn't seem to stop Amon from going anywhere he pleased. Figuring that she wouldn't be able to get any sleep, whether she stayed in the room or not, Robin got up and started searching for Amon.

Thankfully, he was in the dining room and not in some other room that she's never been to before. Amon was the only one there, sitting down at the table and looking at the notes he'd taken on the case. He was in his usual pose - leaning on his left hand, his palm covering his mouth thoughtfully. Robin walked over and sat next to him, hopefully without reprimand for sitting so close without anyone else at the table.

"Did you sleep at all?" Amon's voice was low and quieter than usual. She shook her head. There wasn't a point in asking him the same. Amon would choose to stay on guard rather than sleep. She wished he at least showed some sign of fatigue, though. Amon was still as sharp as he always is.

"What have you been doing?" Robin asked, thinking it would be better to say something than stare at him.

"Planning." Robin frowned. He wasn't going to say anything else.

"Planning what?" Robin prodded.

"Do you see the paintings in the room?" Robin furrowed her brow. What did that have to do with her question? "They move and seem to have great interest in us."

Robin looked at one of the paintings in which a man was glaring at them, trying to listen to their conversation. Amon's low voice and well-placed hand had been a conscious decision. She folded her hands in her lap and stayed quiet. Amon was far more intuitive than anyone else she knew.

"Robin." She looked over at Amon whose eyes had shifted to her at some point. "Don't use your power here or tell anyone that you have them," he said in a much more hushed tone than before.

"Why?"

"Witches don't know of your abilities, and a large reason as to why Solomon is successful in its hunts is because of craft-users. That and they may attack you personally if they knew you have a craft."

Robin looked down at her hands. She hoped Amon wasn't implying that she was a witch. "Does everyone know not to say anything?"

"Karasuma does at least."

"Amon?" He turned slightly, acknowledging her. "Why are we staying here?"

He sighed and turned back to his notes. "Because there's nowhere else to go."

Robin fidgeted. When Amon couldn't think of other options, it was usually a bad sign. At least on the outside he was still confident. She didn't know what would happen if she and the other hunters had a weaker leader. She smiled. She was very happy that Amon was still here despite Solomon turning its back on them. Well, maybe happy was an understatement.

"Why are you smiling?" Robin turned quickly to see Amon looking curiously at her enjoyment of a hopeless situation.

Blushing, she turned back to the table muttering "It's nothing." She frowned when she heard snickering from the painting.

Other voices approaching the dining room caused Robin to look up. A group of teenagers entered. The red-haired twins, which she guessed were Mrs. Weasley's children, casually sat across from her and Amon, not at all afraid of them. The other four were not as quick, and they reluctantly sat near the two boys. Robin was a little wary when the boys continued to grin ear from ear.

"Hello there," one twin said eagerly. "Don't think we've met. My name's Fred Weasley, and this here is George."

"The other less sociable ones down there are Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and our precious brother and sister, Ron and Ginny."

They looked at Robin expectantly. She glanced at Amon who wasn't reacting to the two boys, instead continuing his study of the notes. "My name is Robin Sena."

"...And?" They looked at her enigmatic partner.

"Oh...and this is Amon."

"Does Amon have a last name?" Fred asked as if talking to a child.

"He does," Amon said without bothering to look at the boys. A few seconds later, they realized that Amon wasn't going to elaborate.

"Well, a bit grumpy, isn't he?" Fred said.

"Reminds me of a certain potions professor," George agreed.

Robin looked at the other kids. The boys seemed to enjoy the joke, but the girls were frowning at them. They turned back to look at Amon, a little too starry-eyed for Robin.

"He doesn't look like that greasy git," Ginny said emphatically. Hermione nodded in approval. The boys rolled their eyes.

"How old are all of you," Robin asked politely, trying to change the subject matter from Amon to anything else.

"We're sixteen," the twins said in unison.

"I'm fourteen," Ginny said proudly. "Harry, Ron and Hermione are fifteen."

"Oh, I thought you were younger," Robin commented. Her observation didn't seem to please any of them.

"And how old are you?" Hermione asked in a huff. The girl was obviously mad, either from her previous statement or from her close proximity to Amon.

"I'm fifteen also." The others seemed perplexed by her age.

"Fifteen?" Ron asked. "But that's pretty young. I mean, you're killers, right?"

Robin was suddenly taken aback by his accusation. Killers? She only did what was necessary to save the lives of others. Although most of the witches she encountered attacked those who threatened them or other criminals, Robin was sure that she was doing the right thing, in case the witches started murdering innocent people.

Robin's hands unconsciously played with her dress as she looked at the young witches in front of her. What should she say to them? That they only hunted and captured their enemies. It was similar to the law enforcement system anywhere else.

But that isn't true. She has killed witches. That girl Chie had run into her flames. She was protecting herself against an illusion with Methusela. But that man. The man whom the Inquisitor visited. She killed him. She may have shed a tear afterward, but she really did kill him. She knew exactly what she was doing. But, she was only protecting Amon, right? Did she have to go that far? Her grip on her dress tightened as she bit her lower lip.

"I..." Robin really had not idea how to reply.

"Why are you down here?" Amon interrupted coldly. The group's attention quickly jerked away from Robin. The boys looked fearful and the girls no longer had stars in their eyes. Even the twins started to look uncomfortable. "I'm assuming your mother warned you about us, and you don't appear to be down here to eat, so why are you here?" Amon's glare was succeeding in making them squirm.

"Well, we are going to live together, so we should probably get to know each other." Fred smiled at the two.

"Then let me make this clear," Amon said in an unusually angry tone. "Besides gathering information on the man we're looking for, neither myself nor my team will have anything to do with you. Once we've accomplished our goal, nothing will get in our way if you are the next targets."

Amon stood up, slightly brushing against Robin as a signal to do the same. She gladly followed suit. "None of you will be of use to our mission. Don't approach any of my hunters." Amon turned to look at Robin, urging her to move first.

Her brain was telling her to settle down, but she couldn't. Was he protecting her? Had he broken his silence just so the others would stop questioning her? She knew she shouldn't allow herself to believe in such a romantic fantasy, but Amon always seemed to bring it out of her with only a hint of emotion.

She barely held back a smile when he turned to her, and she quickly walked out of the room to avoid any questioning glances as to why she stood there idolizing him. Walking up the stairs to the reading room, she wanted to thank him before the other hunters saw them, seeing as how it might embarrass Amon to do so in front of them. She turned around to talk to Amon whom she knew was following her. She hadn't realized how closely he had been behind her.

She ended up face to face with him. Amon was at least a half a foot taller than she was, but apparently the stair was making up for her loss of inches. By the look on Amon's face, he was also surprised, albeit mildly, that she had abruptly turned around. Robin quieted the part of her brain that was sorely disappointed at Amon's quick reflexes.

"Um..." Robin began, hoping her face wasn't as red as she imagined it to be. "Thank you, for getting me out of that room."

Amon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Don't hesitate to say something next time," Amon said. "These witches only know of us through stories and legends. They can't possibly comprehend what are jobs are."

Robin frowned slightly. Amon wasn't denying that they were killers. She suddenly remembered the fear she felt when Amon had dragged Sakaki back to the Solomon apartment near Diagon Alley. This was as good a time as any to bring it up.

"Amon, have you ever...um..." Her eyes flickered down to her shoes. She couldn't possibly look at him while asking this. "Have you - "

"I do what I'm told to do," Amon said blankly. He seemed so nonchalant about answering her question. Is he able to kill so easily and heartlessly?

Amon averted his eyes from her. She guessed her face was far too expressive of her dislike of Amon's lack of morality and human emotion. He let go of the banister and side-stepped around her. "We all have jobs to do, whether we like it or not."

Robin grabbed Amon's arm before he got any further up the stairs. "I'm sorry." She looked back up at him. He was staring at her, obviously confused at her apology. "I trust you. Whatever your methods are, whatever you've done or will do, I'll always have faith in your decisions." She let go of his jacket and walked back to the reading room, leaving Amon behind on the staircase.


	8. Chapter 7: Jack in the Box

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter

A/N: I'm taking a few liberties with the plot line (as if I weren't doing so before), so beware of glaring changes to both Harry Potter and Witch Hunter Robin. Also, much thanks to my reviewers, whom I can't give enough credit to for keeping me on task with the story.

Chapter 7: Jack in the Box

Minerva was giving him that look again. The look that says "what the hell were you thinking." She didn't approve of Dumbledore's plan, and he was certain, the rest of the Order felt the same way.

The hunters were known to be dangerous, but how careful should he be around these kids? Most were easily the same age as the children here. But he knew he couldn't underestimate them. It would be the same mistake Lord Voldemort commits every time he faces Harry.

He hoped he wasn't endangering Harry or the others. He valued their safety greatly, but he appeared to be putting them in mortal danger. Molly had not talked to him since his decision. He couldn't blame her. He only hoped that she didn't think her incident with the boggart was some sort of omen for their deaths. Dumbledore would never do anything to put them in harm's way, or at least, without assurances that they would be relatively safe.

There was something about the hunters that he couldn't pin down. For some reason, his intuition was telling him that he could trust them. Disregarding their age, the hunters still seemed to possess some good qualities that made Dumbledore trust them, or at least want to trust them.

They had faith in one another. The team had stood side by side against the Order and had protected the ones who were the youngest or least experienced. They were looking out for each other. Word from Arthur had reached him about the children's attempt to talk to the hunters. While the report was heavily biased in favor of the Weasley children, Dumbledore had a sneaking suspicion that the young man was watching out for the youngest member.

The portrait had also said some interesting information too. The girl was apparently in love with the lead hunter, whose cold demeanor was slowly fading away in Dumbledore's eyes. Such sign of human emotion and frailty was only giving Dumbledore hope about being able to turn their allegiance to his side. They may simply be under the wrong impression about the majority of wizards.

It's the same mind set that muggle constables and even aurors get into. Law enforcement officers see the worst of wizards and humans. It would be easy for anyone to be blinded into thinking all wizards were evil, especially if their only contact with that realm were to arrest the murderers.

He did not know what their abilities entailed, but if any of the rumors were true, they would be incredibly helpful in the war against Lord Voldemort. These men and women may eventually see that they have misunderstood wizards. It would take some work, and those who approached them would have to choose their words carefully, which was most likely the problem with the children's attempt.

But what happens if he's wrong? What happens if his intuition fails him and these hunters were only putting up a front to kill one of them? Arthur had told him that one of the hunters knew who Harry was. Could they be after him? Could they be under the Imperius Curse in order to capture the boy for Lord Voldemort? Muggles were easily tricked and Lord Voldemort does have alternative means in making people do what he wants. He may also be giving the hunters too much credit. Is it too naive of him to think that their behavior is all because of a misunderstanding?

Dumbledore shook his head. Second guessing his decision now would do him no good. It would not change the fact that the hunters have access to 12 Grimmauld Place and to Harry. All he can do now is move forward and, most importantly, dodge glares from Minerva.

* * *

The old witch had called a meeting together, and he and the other hunters were currently sitting at the dining table, enduring the whispers and the stares. Robin was sitting next to him, again. Her sudden admission of her undying faith in him had caught him off guard. With Solomon and Zaizen gone, Robin was looking less and less like a witch, be it for better or for worse. 

For the past couple of hours, he couldn't take his mind or eyes off of her. Though inconspicuous enough to avoid notice, he himself was becoming increasingly worried about his behavior. She was occupying most of his waking hours and admittedly some of his dreams. Though not the reason why he stopped sleeping altogether, he couldn't deny that her awkwardly comforting presence did not have some sort of effect over him.

Her strange power to ensnare him was leading to questions about whether he was making accurate decisions when it came to Robin. With each passing hour, years of dehumanizing witches were going down the drain, and Robin and the others were probably going to start attaching themselves to the witches. Amon was telling himself that this unhealthy alliance is what made him stop the children's attempt at getting chummy with Robin. One more glance at Robin's innocent and uncomfortable look she was demurely hiding from everyone was enough proof that his earlier outburst had nothing to do with the children whatsoever.

It was strange how much older Robin seemed in comparison to the witches who were the same age. She had grown up in a convent, but the respect she learned in Italy shouldn't have solely made her act more like his age than like those British brats or even of Sakaki and Doujima. "Like his age," huh? The more he dwelled on Robin, the less he liked what his mind came up with.

The children from earlier entered the room. Amon narrowed his eyes slightly. Why was the old man allowing those kids to participate in this? By the way they acted earlier in the day, it was obvious that they would not be able to understand what's going on. They would only get in the way.

Robin sidled a little closer to Amon. The kids still made her feel uncomfortable. Plus that damn painting was still looking at them. Amon was growing less and less fond of this place.

On top of all of the other problems, even more witches were showing up at the house. Seven people he's never seen before were seated on the other side of the table, talking animatedly to one another - the subject undoubtedly them.

The group was now officially a circus act - a man with a wheezy voice, another with a rambling eye and bowler hat, a woman with bright pink hair which changed to green when she ate something disgusting, a man with a squeaky and excitable voice, the more than a few scraggly "gentlemen," the greasy-haired dark witch and the old geezer, who now stood up to get everyone's attention.

"I'm glad everyone was able to make it here tonight," Dumbledore said, his voice instantly hushing the other conversations. "As I'm sure you've all heard, we are cooperating with these Solomon hunters in order to defeat Lord Voldemort."

Amon didn't miss the sidelong glances the witches were giving each other. Apparently the old man wasn't popular right now. He couldn't say it surprised him.

"However, in order to cooperate, all of our cards need to be lain on the table," Dumbledore said, eyeing Amon in particular. "We will give you as much information as you give us."

It was distinctly easier for the old witch to say that when Amon was holding all of the cards. So the old man was going to try and take control of the situation. Amon was prepared for that, but their current dilemma with their betrayal of Solomon was hindering the options. He'll have to play along for as far as he can manage without revealing too many details.

"What is it that you want to know?" Amon asked as evenly as possible.

"The box," Snape said, speaking out of turn. "The Dark Lord has been informed that you've stolen a box from him. We'd like to know what is inside."

The box served no real purpose to Amon or the rest of the hunters. He had taken it so the "Dark Lord" would not have access to it. Though he no longer had use for it, if this box was important, then giving it to another group of witches could be just as potentially dangerous as not taking the box at all. Concealing it any longer would only stall their supposed investigation of Voldemort.

Technically, he didn't even know if he or the other hunters were still willing to pursue the investigation. The witch was a murderer. That much is clear. They will most likely capture him and kill him if necessary. Beyond that, the others will have to choose their own paths on their own. Right now, Amon's best choice was to at least gauge their reaction to the mystery box.

Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out the small box he had secured near his holster. Ignoring Michael's wistful look as the only hunter who didn't own an all-concealing coat, Amon placed the box in front of him on the table.

The group or witches seemed entranced by the box. So far, not a good sign.

"What's in it?" the bubbly, pink-haired girl asked.

"I didn't think it pertinent to open a box without knowing the contents."

"But you did think it pertinent to steal it and carry it around with you," Sirius added. The man still had a grudge against him. It was amusing at first but now it's pissing him off.

"Sirius," Dumbledore quietly reprimanded. He shifted his attention back to Amon. "May I?"

Allowing the most powerful witch in the room to open a box with a potentially dangerous weapon inside was an extremely bad idea. Opening it up himself was equally unsettling. He could assume that if Voldemort wanted the box, it probably wouldn't harm the person who opens the box. It's unfortunate that assumptions always lead to something bad happening.

Amon glanced around the room and saw the children staring at the box. Protecting his hunters came before the safety of any child. If people wanted to call him a monster for that decision, well, it wouldn't be the first time he's heard it.

"I'll allow one of the younger witches to open it," Amon said, indicating the children and not the young witch he presumed to have a job in some sort of magical field.

The table was silent. Even his own team was looking at him in horror. Robin's eyes were eratically searching his for some reasoning behind his decision. He held back a self-deprecating laugh. It didn't take her too long to suddenly change her mind about him. He was never a man of faith anyway.

He looked back to the witches. The man named Remus had a firm hold over Sirius who was ready to explode. For a scrawny guy, the shabby-looking witch was strong. Then again, his name was Remus Lupin, and he had claw marks on his face. Amon wasn't an idiot. It was like connecting the dots with a thick permanent marker.

The Weasley woman was in shock. No surprise there. She had been particularly set against any involvement from the children. Her husband wasn't attempting to console her. Any word or touch could easily set her off.

Snape seemed amused to say the least. Amon wasn't particularly happy to realize the dark witch seemed to be the most closely related to his own motivations and actions.

Amon turned his attention back to Dumbledore. For the first time since they've met, the old man looked angry. Apparently the children were a touchy subject for the group. Karasuma had said that the boy named Harry Potter seemed infamous to more than a few people.

Then again, most humans would consider immediate danger to children a bad thing. He could just be overanalyzing the situation.

"I'll do it," Harry said. The entire half of the table was about to jump down his throat. "We need to know, don't we? This is the only way."

The witches were considering his words. The boy was foolhardy. Some may have confused that with courage in the past and, in doing so, inadvertently caused more reckless behavior. Amon knew better. The boy was full of himself and overconfident about his powers or whatever gift he supposedly had. Amon had seen the same behavior before in all of the witches he's hunted. Righteously stubborn to a fault. It would be the boy's downfall.

"Alright, Harry," Dumbledore said cautiously. He turned to glower at Amon. "I'm going to cast a shield around Harry in case something happens. Do you find anything wrong with that?"

The man's words were dripping with poison. Amon seemed to get that reaction from a lot of people. He curtly nodded his assent. There was no use inciting an all-out battle between the hunters and the witches, or rather, between him and everyone else.

Dumbledore quickly cast a spell, while Harry shakily opened the box. Much to the relief of almost everyone in the room, nothing happened. The only thing in the box was a bottom layer of velvet cloth and a gold pocket watch on top.

Harry picked up the watch. "It looks like a regular pocket watch," Harry said.

"You would only see that, wouldn't you Potter?" Snape said. Harry frowned and looked over at Snape.

"What do you mean, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "Do you know what this is?"

"The Dark Lord told us about his horcruxes. I believe you know of them."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, uneasily glancing at the object in Harry's hand. "It contains a portion of the witch's soul."

"The Dark Lord at one point had many horcruxes - seven to be exact. However, Regulus Black betrayed him and destroyed six of them. The only one left was said to be a pocket watch. I hadn't realized that he would be recalling the last item for safe-keeping."

Dumbledore looked at Snape, then at Harry. "Please put that back in the box, Harry," he said urgently. Harry unceremoniously dropped it back into the box.

"Uh...shouldn't we be careful with that?" Ron asked.

"It's extremely difficult to destroy a horcrux," Dumbledore explained. "If dropping it would destroy it, defeating Lord Voldemort would be that much easier."

Despite having little knowledge pertaining to the conversation, Amon was keeping up as best as he could with the new revelations. Karasuma seemed to be the only other one following along. The rest would need a briefing later.

"Horcruxes are generally destroyed by extreme amounts of a particular element," Dumbledore continued. "Do you know how to destroy this one, Severus?"

"A very high intensity of fire beyond that of a phoenix will destroy it."

Robin went rigid beside Amon. He could sense the rising discomfort from all of the hunters. Sakaki started to laugh nervously. Everyone's eyes turned toward the boy.

"Oh...um...it just kind of resembles...well...you know...the one ring and the fires of Mt. Doom." Amon silently sighed a breath of relief. Trust Sakaki to jump to a conclusion from a movie and not to a girl two feet away from him.

"Yes, well," Dumbledore said, averting his eyes away from the hunters, whom he was still perturbed at. "We'll need to figure out a way to destroy it so we can defeat Lord Voldemort."

"Is that such a good idea?" Amon asked, earning him even angrier glares than before. "Destroying this object may force Voldemort into hiding. If his only security were to be destroyed, he would become very cautious." The witches glanced at one another.

"This Voldemort thinks Solomon has it, not you," Amon continued. "As an organization, we would have no knowledge of how to destroy a horcrux, so even if he can't locate it, he'll know it's safe as long as we have it."

Dumbledore's eyes widened briefly. The old man has to know by now that jumping to any action may ruin his long-term goal. He should also have realized that he no longer has control over Amon or his hunters.

"We'll start researching for a way to destroy the horcrux, but for now, we'll have to leave it be," Dumbledore ordered.

The old man looked down at the box, deep in thought. He'll be too focused on the horcrux to question the hunters any further. Their secrets will stay secret for now.

"We still have another problem," Dumbledore said quietly. "Because Lord Voldemort believes his only weakness is lost and untraceable, he will be more aggressive with his attacks. We'll need to move some of the more prominent wizards to different housing, but they all can't come here."

"I know a relocation specialist," Remus said. "He's helped me before, and he's trustworthy enough to handle more cases."

"Good. However, Lord Voldemort may also attack even the most secure of places. I'm sorry to have to do this, but we have no other option. Hogwarts must be closed."


	9. Chapter 8: 33 is a Crowd

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter

A/N: This will unfortunately be my last post for about two weeks as I will be on Spring Break soon and I won't have access to a computer (or at least a reliable computer). However, it will give me time to stock up on more chapters that will make future updates even faster than they were in the beginning. At any rate, I hope you enjoy what I have for now, and, as always, many thanks to my lovely reviewers.

Chapter 8: 33 is a Crowd

Michael's fingers were itching for a computer. He had his laptop, but with no electrical outlet, Amon advised him to save the batteries. His CD player had died a long time ago. He was sure he was in Hell.

Surfing the internet and connecting with people all over the world had kept him sane when he was stuck in Raven's Flat. It made his situation seem not as bad as it really was. He had almost convinced himself that there was no reason to explore the outside world when everything he could ever learn and everyone he wanted to talk to were online or sitting next to him.

The truth is, he hated that place. He hadn't fully recognized those feelings until he stepped outside the STN-E compound after finally ridding himself of Zaizen. It was exciting and frightening at the same time. He had forgotten what freedoms he should have been entitled to as a human being. He could stretch his arms in the park, reaching for the sun that was so bright it blinded him.

Michael wished he had never been given that opportunity. The situation was different, but the result was the same. He was stuck inside a foreign house, unable to venture past the chained door. However, there was one notable difference - he was completely useless to the team.

Without his computer, Michael felt as though the only meaning in his life up to now was taken away. He was nothing. He was less than nothing. He was a burden. The others had enough problems with these witches and Solomon. Now he was making them worry about ensuring his safety and dragging him along. He was nothing more than dead weight.

Michael stared blankly at the books in the reading room. He's lived in Japan for so long that he didn't even realize people had space for a room dedicated to just reading books. Some people liked that hands-on experience with turning the pages, juggling the heavier volumes and smelling that odd odor the older ones seemed to emit. Michael was not one of them. He turned back to his bag. He really wished these witches had electricity.

Amon walked in and sat on one of the chairs. Michael couldn't fathom what was on that man's mind. He spent a lot of time observing people from the windows in Raven's Flat to pass the time, and he had gotten rather good at predicting actions. So when he admits to himself that Amon confuses the hell out of him, he knows exactly what that means. The man dressed like a villain, sounded like a villain and swept into rooms like a villain. He doubted anyone asked Amon about his "sweeping" movements, but he was sure a lot of people noticed it.

Amon's behavior went beyond Michael's comprehension. Michael had started looking up to the man whom he had known during his entire stay at the STN-J. Amon was the only leader he's ever known, so he's never had anyone to compare him to. But, he was positive that Amon was somehow different from all of the other Solomon hunters. Though Amon rarely showed a soft side, he was never extraordinarily mean to anyone. The older man had also taken much of the brunt of Zaizen's anger, or so he's heard. It must be tough, being the leader of an elite squad.

His recent behavior was confusing Michael, though. He thought he was beginning to somewhat understand Amon's modus operandi, but then the guy goes and says a bunch of kids his age should be the ones opening a dangerous box. Amon wasn't exactly the nice guy type, but he at least stayed within social norms most of the time. Michael hazarded a glance at his team leader. What was he thinking?

Amon looked over at him. The guy had an intense stare, he had to give him that. "Where are the others?" Michael asked, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with being alone with Amon.

"They're eating."

Michael smiled. In some ways Amon was very predictable. "I guess Mrs. Weasley wasn't too happy about sharing the food."

"She wasn't."

It was like talking to a brick wall. It's not like he was doing anything else that occupied his attention. "Did the old man force her to cook?"

"If by force, you mean ask. Then yes."

"Ah." Michael looked at Amon, who was currently staring off into space. Or was he concentrating? Amon's variety in facial expression was limited to one determined look most of the time.

What did Robin see in him anyway. She wasn't the type to go for a guy just because he's tall, dark and supposedly handsome. He didn't have much of a personality, that's for sure. Michael readjusted his glasses. Women were far too complicated sometimes.

"What are you still doing here?"

Michael looked over. Amon was eyeing him. Apparently Michael wasn't the only one interested in people watching. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't eaten anything yet."

"100 yen says you haven't either."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point."

Amon stared at the boy. Michael didn't know why he was so argumentative. He was sure there were a few glaring reasons, but he rarely ever confronted people, especially Amon.

"You're worrying about not contributing to the team."

Michael half-smiled. "It's that obvious, huh?"

"It's understandable."

Michael glanced over at Amon. Was this some sort of pep talk? "I don't think you guys could understand."

"Everyone else is as frustrated as you, Michael."

"I highly doubt that."

Amon glared at him. "What sort of position do you think the others are in now?" Michael tightly closed his mouth. "They are as lost as you are," Amon continued.

"But they can help. They can do something."

"Help whom? Do what? What is it that you think we're doing? This hunt that we're involved in is just a front." Michael blinked. "All we're doing is buying time."

Michael stared closely at Amon, who had turned away indicating that the conversation was over. Buying time? He supposed Amon was right. Without being able to link themselves with Solomon, they really had no business hunting witches.

It was strange, though, suddenly thinking that at some point they may be going back to the way things were. The other hunters practically gave up their own social lives almost to the same extent as Michael had. But they were still a part of some family somewhere on the planet. Someone was waiting for him to return to America. He had friends back home whom he hadn't seen for years. The others must have similar lives.

But Amon didn't. As the lead hunter, Amon was on-call 24 hours a day and participated in hunts separate from group assignments. Michael heard that Amon was younger than him when he first started. He was the one most dedicated to Solomon and, in the end, had the most to lose from rebelling against them.

"Amon, I - "

"Go downstairs," Amon interrupted. "The others were asking for you."

Michael nodded and walked out of the room, making sure he didn't look back to see Amon's expression. He guessed it wouldn't be the same mask he always seemed to have on.

* * *

Sakaki couldn't believe that the first homemade meal he would have in a few years was coming from a witch. It looked and tasted good - good enough to banish all thoughts of poison simply out of the necessity to eat something which wasn't cooked in a microwave. 

Though starving, he wasn't about to ask for seconds. It was weird enough that the witches were feeding them. He wasn't going to push his luck,which, on a good day, would allow him to avoid tripping down the stairs, and on a bad day, well, every day at work was a bad day for Sakaki. Karma had it out for him, he just knew it.

Doujima was eating, as was Michael, who had finally made an appearance. He needed another male to talk to who wasn't a witch and who definitely wasn't Amon. Unfortunately, Michael was sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Next to him, neither Karasuma nor Robin looked like they were enjoying themselves. Karasuma seemed to be debating on what was the proper way to handle accepting food from the enemy, while Robin sparingly ate between glances at the door and Amon's empty seat. Sakaki may be a rookie hunter and a little slow at putting two and two together, but he was pretty sure why Robin was acting the way she did. She must be scared without the most powerful hunter around.

He covertly glanced at the witches sitting at the far end of the table. The younger kids had ventured downstairs and braved the company. Though the twins had been exuberant before, the group seemed more depressed than they usually were. He guessed it was because of the school cancellation, though Sakaki never knew a kid who was sad about that sort of thing before. These kids were definitely weird. This whole teaching witches how to fight thing was freaking him out. Education always led to more powerful and smarter enemies. He did not want to face decades of graduates.

Sakaki's stomach rumbled again, despite his best efforts to quiet it down. Karasuma nudged her plate over to him. "If you're still hungry..."

He gave her a sheepish grin and slid her plate closer to him. "I guess I should've eaten something before we left."

"I doubt that would've changed anything," Doujima commented.

Sakaki narrowed his eyes. Why was it so easy for others to suddenly start making fun of him? "Your obviously hungry, too."

"But I'm not the one scarfing down Miho's meal."

"Well...she didn't offer it to you."

"That's probably because I didn't lick my plate clean."

"I didn't lick my plate clean."

"Please, it looks like nothing was ever on it."

"Yurika, Sakaki, settle down," Karasuma interrupted. She nervously looked over at the other witches and turned back to Doujima. "It doesn't matter how much Sakaki eats."

"I suppose not," Doujima conceded. "After all, he is still growing."

Sakaki flushed bright red. "I'm plenty grown up," he shouted, standing up.

"Sure. By your reaction, I can totally tell."

"You're nothing but a spoiled brat!"

"Sakaki," Karasuma reprimanded, standing up to meet him near eye level. "Sit down. You're acting like a child."

"Just because you act and dress like an old maid doesn't make you my mom," Sakaki blurted.

The table was silent, and all the witches were looking in their direction. Sakaki bit his lip. He was going to get slapped.

"Why you little..." Karasuma's words trailed off. She instinctively tugged at her blazer, smoothing it back into its normal position. Lifting her hand, she tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear and trailed her fingers down the rest of her short hair. "Everyone should finish their food," Karasuma said softly. "Amon will most likely want to brief us at some point soon." She turned around and swiftly left the dining room.

Sakaki fell back into his seat and stared at the plate.

"You certainly did it now," Doujima taunted.

Sakaki turned his head as far as it could away from Doujima. "Shut up," he said under his breath.

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding," Robin said quickly, abandoning her food altogether. "You were just angry. I'll try and talk to Karasuma." Robin got up and ran out of the door.

Michael was quietly finishing his meal, while Doujima rolled her eyes and did the same. Sakaki moved some of the food around on his plate. He wasn't really hungry anymore.

* * *

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Lupin said, gracing him with that same smile he gives everyone, even after the full moon has just past. "We really need your help." 

He gave him a half-smile in return and politely stomped out his cigarette before entering the moldy house. He'd never heard Lupin talking about this shack before. Apparently it was top secret. Then again, secrets were his speciality.

Looking up at the staircase, he saw two girls talking. One had strange looking pigtails and a dress that would better fit a nun than a pretty girl like her. The other he believed to be young, but she dressed like a business woman. He shrugged. Maybe his thoughts on women wearing feminine things was either too modern or too traditional.

A third figure walked down the staircase toward the two girls, but stopped short when he saw the man standing in the doorway.

Lupin curiously looked behind him. The man chuckled. "Well, this certainly is a surprise, eh, otouto."


	10. Chapter 9: Brotherly Love

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter

Chapter 9: Brotherly Love

Nagira desperately wanted a camera. He knew it wasn't exactly proper to make light of the situation, but he couldn't quite get that thought passed the hilariously high number of emotions being illustrated on the face of his usually stoic brother. His younger brother's current emotional state seemed torn between ignoring him and crying at the foot of the stairs. Even though Nagira would thoroughly enjoy the latter, he guessed that wasn't going to be the result.

Lupin was looking curiously at their exchange. He probably didn't understand Japanese, but the general air of the one-sided conversation should have clued him in. The two girls on the landing looked to be equally confused. Apparently Amon didn't talk about his personal life. What a surprise.

Amon shifted uncomfortably on the staircase. "You're the relocation specialist, then?"

"Sure are. Though I don't know how you fit into this picture."

"Amon." The cute petite girl with pigtails seemed strapped to Amon's side. "Who is he?"

"I'm his brother," Nagira said in a more positive manner than he would normally usewhen admitting any relation to Amon.

"Half-brother."

"If you insist on being technical, then yes."

Lupin, looking as though he struck gold, gently grabbed ahold of Nagira's arm. "I'd like to introduce you to the others before you two catch up on old times, if that's okay."

Nagira nodded and let Lupin drag him away. Winking as he passed the two girls, Nagira smugly grinned at Amon's indignant expression. Satisfied with his day's work, Nagira found himself only a few feet away, standing before the dining area. More teenagers in black were seated closest to him and by the looks of the other witches, it wasn't too hard to conclude that they were with Amon.

Nagira's flashy fur coat and green suit seemed to be attracting everyone's attention, though mainly because they weren't robes and not because his clothes were examples of his atrocious taste in fashion. No one could say that he didn't make a memorable first impression.

"Molly, do you know where Dumbledore or Sirius are?" Lupin asked.

The woman merely shook her head, seemingly terrified by the new guest. What did Amon do while he was here anyway?

"Okay," Lupin said, pretending to not notice the tension in the room. "Oh, and this is Syunji Nagira. He'll be helping with the relocation of wizards."

"Wait." The woman got her voice back. "A muggle will be doing it?"

"Yes. He's been doing it for some time in Japan and is rather good at it." The group of hunters seemed to perk up when "Japan" was mentioned. "He's done a few services for me while I was traveling in that area for research on werewolves. It's quite hard to find anyone willing to house you when you're a wizard, much less a werewolf."

Lupin turned around, smiling at his friend. "If you could wait here, Nagira, I'll go and try to find Dumbledore and Sirius. Please make yourself comfortable."

Trying to imagine which seat would garner the most excitement, he plopped down next to the blonde-haired woman. She, unlike the two he had seen earlier, had much better fashion sense - if he were in any position to judge.

"So you must be Solomon hunters. Pleasure to meet you." The hunters simply stared at him. "You know, this is where you introduce yourselves."

"Why are you talking to us?" The boy with glasses asked boldly.

"Well, there's no need to discriminate. Besides, you're obviously not hunting any of these witches...currently. There's no need for me to ignore you."

"We happen to be from the Japanese branch of Solomon," the blonde girl said. Nagira tried to look surprised. "I don't think you should try to get acquainted with the people you are hiding witches from."

"Common sense was never my forte, or so my secretary says. I don't know what's happened recently, but you don't seem to be the ones causing the problems here."

"We're merely working with these witches to catch a more dangerous one," the girl said. She seemed to be the designated talker of the group and for good reason. Even Nagira couldn't tell whether she was telling the truth or lying. She was the worst type of girl to get involved with, and therefore, Nagira's favorite type of woman. "After this, we're going back to what we've been doing."

Nagira nodded with his eyes closed in fake thought. He opened one eye. "Seems odd, that's all."

The girl frowned. She obviously hasn't met many people who were smart (or cynical) enough to get passed her original statement.

A loud crack notified Nagira that Lupin had re-entered the room. The five-foot jump from the hunters meant that was the first time they've heard it before. Nagira was very thankful that Amon was not in the room. Otherwise, he'd have to worry about disposing a body. Sometimes his little brother is more trouble than he's worth.

"Dumbledore and Sirius are upstairs."

"Please tell me we don't need to apparate up there."

"Well, it is faster."

"Yeah, but it's really weird for me."

"I think it's better that you don't see your brother again quite yet."

Nagira paused. "Good point. Okay, Remus. Beam me up." Nagira grabbed Lupin's arm and waved boyishly at the blonde, who looked rather confused that the mention of a brother. Tagging along others apparating was the worst experience he's ever had, and it never got any better. The trip sent his stomach lurching. Nagira leaned over and grabbed his side. "I'll never get used to that."

"So you are Remus' friend from Japan," the old man said. "I'm Albus Dumbledore and this is Sirius Black, current owner of this house."

Nagira managed a curt nod but didn't trust himself enough to risk opening his mouth.

"From what Remus tells me, I believe you are associated with one of the hunters."

Nagira straightened up and nodded again. "Yeah," Nagira said, now somewhat mastering his stomach. "The tall, dark and emotionless one is my younger brother."

Dumbledore looked at the two other witches. "We're only half-brothers," Nagira clarified. "We grew up separately, which explains the two very opposite opinions." The last thing Nagira wanted right now was to spy on his own brother. Unfortunately, the task seemed inevitable.

"Don't bother asking me anymore," Nagira strongly urged. "The past is between me and Amon and is not really anyone else's business, with all due respect."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "Consider the subject done with. How did you plan on relocating some of our more prominent wizards?"

"I don't really know," Nagira admitted, changing into business mode. "I've only been to London when Remus asked for help, and I'm not familiar with the area. That being said, I'm also not sure what is going on here. I'd like to have some information if you're willing to tell me."

"I'm not sure how much Remus has told you, but we are currently in a war against Lord Voldemort."

Nagira didn't bother commenting on the ridiculous name. He supposed "Dumbledore" and "Remus" weren't exactly ordinary themselves. "The little missy downstairs alluded to some big baddie. I didn't imagine that you and Solomon would join together, though."

"It was a surprise to us too," Sirius said. "Not really a good surprise either."

"I'm betting my brother has something to do with that."

"I don't understand why they joined us," Remus said. "Has Solomon ever asked for assistance from wizards before?"

"I've never heard of Solomon asking anyone for help." Nagira looked at the door and back at the three witches. "I need to understand the whole situation before I can start moving witches around England. If I don't know everything, I could be putting someone in mortal danger without realizing it. I think I need to speak with Amon before I get back to you with any concrete plans."

"Do you think he'll actually tell you anything?" Sirius asked.

"Probably not, but maybe I'll be able to pester a few things out of him."

* * *

Something about Amon had changed since the last time he's seen him. He was as cold as ever, but something was off. The fact that he was even in this situation was a good indication that Amon had changed for one reason or another. Nagira folded his coat over the backside of the chair and sat down facing his younger brother. They had taken over the reading room for now, and the other hunters were ordered to hang around somewhere else until Nagira was finished with his questions, or until Amon became too annoyed to answer any more. 

"You've got a new member since the last time I looked you up. Cute girl, though not my type."

"You wanted to talk to me about something important, didn't you?"

Nagira sighed. That was unusually aggressive. "I'd like to know why your organization is suddenly cooperating with witches."

"I'm not going to tell you anything about Solomon protocol."

"You know, it's easier to just lie than to evade the question like that." Receiving only a huff as a response, Nagira continued. "I have no intention of informing Remus or the others about what's happened with you or your crew, but I need to know what's going on-"

"So you can hide more witches."

Nagira straightened in his chair. "The people I agree to house are innocent, you know that."

"The witches here are ordering you to hide certain witches that they want hidden. It won't be up to your discretion."

"I trust their instincts. They're good people." Amon folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. He was reverting back to being professional and placing the mask back on. "There are people worse than witches in this world, Amon. You may have to deal with the worst of all witches, but I've seen many who are no different from the humans I know. I don't see a difference between the two anymore."

Amon stared at him. Nagira could guess the response. Nagira was human and couldn't possibly understand the power unleashed by a psychopathic witch, especially when Amon was exposed to it at an early age.

Instead, Amon said nothing.

"What is it?" Nagira asked, obviously confused by Amon's lack of a depressing response. "Have you finally realized the good side to these witches?"

"That's not it," Amon said sharply. "It's just...I didn't want to call you into this or even get you involved now, but I'm running out of options."

Nagira narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is going on? If there's something wrong, I'll help you."

Amon half-smiled. "Is this an older brother's guilt for not being able to do anything for the past two decades?"

Nagira got up, walked over to Amon and put his hands on his younger brother's shoulders. "I want to help you if you're in trouble. We are family, no matter how hard you want to deny it. Tell me what's going on." Amon shifted in his seat. "I swear I'll hug you if you don't."

Amon rolled his eyes and pushed Nagira's hands off. "I'll need you to help my hunters disappear from Solomon radar."

"What?"

"We've run into some difficulties with Solomon."

"I'd say. That does explain a little of why you're here. What happened?" Amon's lips pursed. "I promise, not a word to the others," Nagira said raising his right hand.

"Solomon covered up information on our investigation of the murders at the England branch. They blew up the severity of the situation, which isn't really abnormal for Solmon, but..." Nagira leaned in closer. "Something's been bothering me for a while. I should be notified of all parts of the investigation, and I've been kept out of the loop for some time now."

"What made you suspect that?"

"Little things. Zaizen's behavior toward me changed. Sources from Solomon headquarters in Italy have stopped corresponding with me."

"Any reason for this?"

"Only reasons given by Solomon, mainly an overload of cases."

"So total crap then."

"That's about right."

Nagira flopped back down on the chair. He really needed a cigarette. "Does this mean that headquarters is after you?"

"Usually when an entire branch goes AWOL, it would be in Solomon's best interest to eliminate them."

Nagira put his head in his hands. The situation was worse than he thought. "How soon do you want me to start searching for hideouts for your hunters."

"As soon as possible, though they may be sticking it out until we get this witch."

"The witches will need you on this one." Amon huffed. "Can I ask why you suddenly joined the witches' side after being betrayed by Solomon?"

Amon thought through his response. "The only lead we had was a name and an address. As I can't ensure the safety of my hunters virtually anywhere else, I decided it would be best to work here for a while."

"Has your opinion of witches changed?"

Amon bit back from immediate replying "No." Nagira looked closely at him. "I can't honestly say I don't still feel animosity toward witches or hate the blood that flows through my veins, but...I'm just not sure anymore."

Nagira laughed. "There's a woman, right?"

"What?"

"A woman. The appeals of the fairer sex tend to confuse the most stubborn men." Amon sighed in exasperation. "So who is it? The blonde woman downstairs is quite the fox."

Amon held himself back from choking on his own bile. "Doujima is not my type, and she's only 18 - far too young for you."

Nagira shrugged. "As long as they're legal, I have no qualms about my actions. Miss Pippi Longstockings may be out of my league, though. I'll leave her to you." Amon glared at Nagira. "Ho ho. Is she a touchy subject?"

"She's my partner," Amon barked.

"C'mon, Amon. If there's one thing that I've learned from every cop show ever made, it's that partners are the first to get it on in any situation."

"She's 15."

"She'll get older."

"You're psychotic."

"You're in denial."

Amon tightened his crossed arms. "Why did I even agree to talk to you?"

"Because, A-chan, you need big brother's help, and you know there's no one more trustworthy than me."

"I don't know about that."

"Well, no one more trustworthy when it comes to getting things done secretly. I guess I'm not too trustworthy around other people's women. Though, I'm not the one with the Lolita complex."

* * *

Dumbledore, Remus and a new witch were staring at him. Nagira fixed his jaw. Amon had a better left than he remembered. He smiled at the witches anyway. 

"Are you okay, Nagira?"

The ever-selfless Remus. It was nice to have guys like him around, even if half of the female population more than just appreciated the man's understanding of a monthly torture. "It's nothing, Remus. I got most of the information I needed."

"Which was?"

The new witch had sharp, angular features, which was a sure sign of a bad guy in any work of fiction. His snappy response wasn't growing on Nagira, either. Lucky for him, Nagira was a forgiving man - or at least, a man who preferred to pile on the sweet talk to annoy people he couldn't stand.

"Not much more than my dear brother wanted you to know. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"This is Severus Snape, Nagira."

Nagira paused. "No introduction for me, Remus?"

"Oh, well, he already knows who you are."

"The attention would still be acceptable, though I much prefer it coming from a good-looking woman. Say, Remus. Who was that bird downstairs with the pink hair?"

Remus flushed bright red, and Nagira held back a laugh. Apparently Amon wasn't the only one into much younger women.

"If we could get back to business," Snape began, shrewdly pointing back to Dumbledore.

"Hmm...oh yes." Dumbledore sat down at the quickly constructed mini-table in the room. "We have some important decisions that need to be discussed."

Nagira frowned. "Shouldn't one of the hunters be here then?"

"I'd like to appoint you as a sort of mediator," Dumbledore said. "I'd rather not have to deal with them too much."

"I'm not a part of Solomon, and my status as brother does not make me Amon's guardian. I'm in no position to make decisions without his approval. He hasn't told me every detail of what's going on."

Dumbledore readjusted his glasses. "For now, I don't want their involvement, and I would appreciate any discretion on your part."

Nagira leaned back in his chair. "You have my discretion, but I don't agree with your methods. You'll only cause more harm than good."

"I'll deal with that when the time comes. This is a decision I've come up with, and it is our only chance for all of our order members to be safe." Dumbledore straightened his glasses and laced his fingers together. "Severus is a double agent supplying us with information we need to fight Voldemort. However, a few things have arisen that need our attention. Because of my decision to close Hogwarts, Voldemort feels that he needs stronger leaders to fight as a sort of general in battles against good wizards spread across the country. Since Voldemort trusts Severus, he has been chosen."

"Another problem is that Voldemort may already be clued in to our efforts to destroy him. Seeing as I must be the leader in any action taken against him, Voldemort would expect Severus to leak information. Before today, I had advised Severus not to tell Voldemort anything about the new order. However, it is inevitable that he would find out, and that would only endanger Severus' life if the information did not come from him.

"What I'm proposing is risky, but making sure we still have contact through Severus is our best solution. I'm planning to let Severus leak information pertaining to our movements and current address to Voldemort."

"Dumbledore, you can't be serious," Remus said as forcefully as he could.

"There's no way I can move all of these witches in time," Nagira added.

"Don't worry. The order will move headquarters to Hogwarts. It's safer and we'll have more room for all of our members. Remus, we still need Severus, and Voldemort will want proof of his loyalty. A few names of the Order members will be released, but none of the aurors will be identified. Severus plans to take extra precautions when speaking of the hunters and the horcrux. I'm not putting this up to discussion. I've informed Sirius about our plans to move locations, but I will tell the others once this has been set up."

"Why tell me now?" Nagira asked.

"I wanted a reaction from the hunters as quickly as possible, without having to confront them about it myself. Your brother seems rather agitated when it comes to me, and I don't approve of his methods. I prefer to have a mediator for our correspondence."

"I can definitely understand that. I'll notify you of his reaction." Nagira rubbed his jaw. "Hopefully it won't be anything too noticeable."

"Thank you, and Severus, good luck. Contact me whenever you can, but don't risk it for a while yet. The trick to catching Voldemort will be to surprise him. Without that, we may not be able to defeat him and risk the entire world living in fear."


	11. Chapter 10: Revelation

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter

A/N: Finally another update after way too long of a break. I'm currently being flooded by papers and reports, but hopefully I'll get down to more writing soon. Let's hope this chapter is worth the wait for you readers. Apologies ahead of time if you don't like my somewhat alternative pairing.

Chapter 10: Revelation

Karasuma had never seen anything like it before. She stood in the Great Hall where the ceiling changed, candles floated and banners fluttered in the non-existent wind. She never really grasped the concept of how big the world of witches was, and now she had a hard time concentrating on what anyone else was saying.

Amon reasoned that following the witches to their school would not only give them more information about how different these witches were, but also would give them a little more privacy. At least they had thought it would. The eery man in the painting that seemed to stalk Robin was no longer there, but he instead was replaced by thousands of other portraits, who took equally great interest in them. Privacy was most likely not going to be had in this school.

On top of the portraits and moving inanimate objects, ghosts and goblins appeared to either humor them or serve them. Every one of the hunters were scared witless. She bet even Amon felt something akin to fright, despite not showing anything on his face. Karasuma hoped that the nearly headless ghost would not make a second appearance during her stay. The entire school reminded her of every horror movie she's ever seen, and she was sure any more surprises would freak her out completely. She half-expected a bloody girl to emerge from a mirror.

The children seemed to enjoy it though. They were talking animatedly again and even one new kid showed up, apparently ready to aid his friends at any given time. She guessed that when he was younger, he was probably short and a little overweight. The boy seemed to be slowly and awkwardly growing out of that phase. He still had the cherubim cheeks and wide eyes, but he was growing taller than some of the other kids. He also had a more severe case of buck teeth than the girl Hermione and probably suffered a lot of jokes for it. By looking at his behavior around the other children, Karasuma guessed his looks wasn't the only reason he may have been picked on in school. She fought the motherly urge to go give the boy a hug.

"Karasuma-san?" She turned to Sakaki, who looked at her worriedly. He was obviously still upset at himself for calling her an old maid, which made her sadistically happy. She couldn't quite understand why he was so upset, though. After all, he's called Yurika worse, and "old maid" probably was an accurate description of her clothing. She'd forgiven him some time ago, but he still chose his words carefully as if she were a child. It was almost more upsetting than his original backlash.

"What is it?" Karasuma asked.

"Nothing...really...you just seemed to be...spacing out is all."

"I'm surprised no one else is. It's not like we've seen anything like this before."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Sakaki looked at the ceiling with feigned interest. Yurika was being quiet, Michael wasn't complaining about the lack of computers, Robin wasn't sitting next to Amon, Amon acquiesced to the witches' orders and now Sakaki wasn't asking questions. What the hell was going on?

"I can't believe Dumbledore did this!" Karasuma looked over at Sirius Black who was standing near their table and yelling at Remus Lupin and another witch with pink hair. "Why didn't you stop him, Remus?"

"It was out of my hands. I couldn't do anything, Sirius."

"Lay off Remus, Sirius," Tonks added. "It's not his fault Snivellus has gone on his own."

"This is ridiculous! How could he trust Snivellus of all people."

"Dumbledore has his reasons, Sirius."

"I don't care what those reasons are. Snivellus is a back-stabbing git. You know he's going to sell us out to Voldemort the first chance he gets."

"If Snape didn't do that before, why would he do that now?"

"Snivellus doesn't have to answer to Dumbledore anymore. He has the freedom to do whatever he desires - and that's going to be bringing us down."

"Sirius-"

"Once he does that, who knows what will happen next. I know you and Kingsley won't be safe anymore, Tonks. Voldemort may even send the dementors on us."

"Sirius, calm down."

Karasuma looked over at the children, who had stopped chatting and now looked as glum as they did when their school was cancelled. The other witches were silent as well. She sighed and stood up. She'll have to stop them from arguing.

"Karasuma-san?"

"I'm just going over to tell them to take it outside," she said, ignoring Sakaki's confused look.

The three witches stared at her as she walked up to them. "It may not be up to me to tell you what to do, but I think you should argue somewhere else."

Sirius walked up straight in front of her and looked down. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting your dinner with your other murdering friends?"

Karasuma sighed at the predictable response. "Actually, I think you're upsetting the children."

"The 'children' have been through more than you can possibly imagine and can take care of themselves. They should be exposed to all of the information."

"I don't think information includes your gripes about your leader's decisions."

"Well, unlike you, we don't follow people blindly without asking questions." Karasuma coughed back a laugh at the irony. Sirius apparently misconstrued her reaction. "Dumbledore and Harry saved me from going back to Azkaban, but that doesn't mean I'll mindlessly do whatever he tells me to do."

Karasuma furrowed her brow at "Azkaban."

"Never heard of it, darling? It's quite unpleasant. Would you like me to describe it to you?"

"Sirius, c'mon," Lupin said, trying to pull him away.

"No. I'm sure the girl wants to know everything about the wizarding world. After all, what's not to love about soul-sucking creatures."

Karasuma rolled her eyes and turned around. Maybe she could lead them outside of the Great Hall.

Sirius grabbed her wrist. "Too afraid, sweetheart?"

The lights suddenly shut off, or she supposed in this case, the candles went out. It was pitch black except for the light in between the bars. A cell? Karasuma turned hurriedly to each side - all concrete walls. When did this happen? Sirius had touched her, but she wasn't actively using her powers. She wasn't even able to get out or let go. What was happening?

A figure appeared at the front of the cell. It was cloaked, but looked different from the witch she saw before. There were no feet. The body wouldn't have seemed corporeal at all if it weren't for the disgustingly long-fingered hands and a catfish-like mouth protruding from the head of the cloak. With a gesture of its hand, it opened the cell.

Even though the rational part of Karasuma's brain was telling her that this was an opportunity to escape, every one of her limbs were frozen in place. No matter how hard she tried to convince her body everything was okay, nothing moved. An oppressive amount of fear was consuming her. It wasn't like the time with the green light at STN-E headquarters. She knew exactly what was happening and what will happen to her. She not only felt every wave of emotion from this creature, but every bad thing that's ever happened to her was passing before her eyes. Scoldings, arguments, parents dying, colleagues murdered. Where were her friends? Why weren't they helping her? She did the only thing she could think of - she closed her eyes and screamed.

Two arms surrounded her. It felt like her life was being drained by the demon behind her. Karasuma struggled to get free from its grasp, kicking and elbowing the figure, using as much self-defense knowledge that she could remember. She successfully knocked down the attacker, but was quickly captured by another who was in front of her. The new one was stronger, and her arms were trapped between her body and the monster's. The demon's arms were gripped around her in a bear hug, and it tilted its head down to her ear. Before she could scream again, she heard the monster whispering something incoherent, until she recognized her own name.

Opening her eyes, Karasuma saw her hands in front of her against Amon's chest. "Karasuma." She looked up at him. Amon's face was a mixture of sympathy and dread at what just occurred. Karasuma's eyes widened. Her sudden outburst must have garnered a lot of attention, and there was going to be a lot of questions. They don't know about her power, and everyone had gone to great lengths to keep it that way. Karasuma sank into Amon's arms. She had just cost them the upper hand.

Amon kneeled down to the floor to let Karasuma sit somewhat comfortably on the stone floor. Sakaki ran over and knelt beside her. "Are you all right, Karasuma-san?"

She looked over at her younger partner. His cheek was bruised and his clothes were messed up. He must have been the one who grabbed her the first time.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. What else could she possibly say? Not only did she try to brutally assault her partner, she may have led the other hunters into more danger. If the witches realized that the hunters were similar to them, they could become angry and attack her friends, or even worse, they could try to recruit them.

Because they were hiding this secret, the witches would realize that there are other things they weren't being entirely truthful about. The witches could potentially freeze all information until they received the facts behind their circumstances, which means they'd realize that no strong organization was actually backing their activity or looking out for their well-being. The witches could easily dispose of them with little consequence.

Amon let go of Karasuma, and Sakaki jumped in to take up the job. "I'm okay, Sakaki," Karasuma said weakly. Sakaki only hugged tighter.

"Miho." Yurika settled down next to Karasuma. Michael was standing in shock nearby, and Robin was hovering near Amon.

"Is she alright?" Lupin asked.

The hunters looked at one another. "She'll be fine," Amon said standing up.

"Look what you did, Sirius!" Tonks exclaimed.

"I didn't do anything, Tonks." Sirius looked down at Karasuma and back at Amon. "What happened to her?"

Karasuma tried to hide behind Sakaki's shoulder. Any sort of psychosis was not going to cut it. Her usual behavior was too controlled to say that she suffered from a mental illness. Maybe some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder could explain her behavior, especially since he had grabbed her wrist. However, it was doubtful that Solomon would risk employing someone who had any sort of painful background, unless they were exceptionally skilled like Amon. In other words, they didn't have a good enough explanation to lie.

Lupin walked up to Karasuma to see if she was okay. He rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch her," Sakaki blurted, hitting Lupin's hand away. He hugged her tighter and put his back to Lupin protectively.

"I didn't do anything!" Sirius shouted again. "There's something wrong with your girl."

"What's going on here?" Dumbledore said. The rest of the witches in the hall were all staring, too afraid to move from their seats. "What happened?"

"I just grabbed her wrist, and she goes psycho," Sirius explained. "I mean, I was trying to scare her, but I didn't do anything that would have warranted that kind of response. I didn't even say anything."

Dumbledore looked cautiously at the group of hunters. "Does she need to be taken somewhere?"

"Like a closed ward." Tonks hit Sirius in the stomach with her elbow.

"No," Amon said. "She just needs a little space. Sakaki."

Sakaki lessened his hold on Karasuma. "Are you okay to walk, Karasuma-san?" She nodded.

Sakaki stood up and started walking alongside without letting her go. "Sakaki, you don't have to-"

He held on tighter and pushed passed the other witches and out of the Great Hall. Wordlessly walking through the hallways, the two partners managed to arrive at their destination - the Ravenclaw common room, where the group was assigned to stay during their duration.

Judging by Sakaki's uncomfortable shifting and muttering of various words under his breath, Karasuma gauged that he probably didn't remember the password that Amon reported to the team before they arrived. Karasuma sighed. Sakaki really needs to pay attention to the briefs.

"Saturn," Karasuma said. The painting swung open reluctantly. The man's portrait seemed perturbed that a group of foreigners were using his chamber. The hunters seemed to be getting similar reactions from all of the paintings nearby.

Sakaki and Karasuma stepped forward, and he placed her on the couch. Finally letting her go, he didn't move far and instead chose to sit right beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"Guilty. Amon won't be able to hold them off forever. We'll have to tell them about craft-users."

"So what?" Sakaki blurted, trying very hard not to offend her. "We don't have to protect Solomon's secrets. We're not a part of them anymore."

"That's why we need to protect ourselves. This was our trump card. If worse came to worst, then at least we could take the witches by surprise, or at least Robin could."

"We'll find another way to protect ourselves. Amon-san always thinks of something."

Karasuma smiled and turned to Sakaki. "Don't put too much pressure on him. He's placed enough weight on his shoulders as it is."

Sakaki looked confused. He turned his head to the direction of the unlit fireplace. "Am I being kept out of the loop about something?"

Karasuma bowed her head a little. "No, not really. Amon hasn't said anything to me directly. It's just something that I can feel." Sakaki looked at her expectantly. "I don't think it's something I can just say to everybody, though."

"Oh." Sakaki sat stiffly on the couch and stared at his feet. He bit his lip. "You can't even tell your partner?"

She sighed and gently placed her hand on his arm. "It's a kink in Amon's personality. He doesn't want people to know he may be struggling with something. That aside, I'm only guessing at what he's feeling based on how long we've worked together. He's a very hard man to read, and I can't use my powers on someone who's almost always covered from the neck down."

"You always do that," Sakaki said, closing his eyes and gripping the material of the couch. Karasuma recoiled her hand. "You always try to make others feel better or make light of the situation so it doesn't seem as serious. Why don't you just tell me it's none of my business or that I'm depending on others too much. Why don't you just tell me how you feel?"

How she feels? Karasuma looked blankly at Sakaki, who was preoccupied with his shoelaces. She wants to make others happy and keep them safe. Beyond that, Karasuma didn't believe anything else existed. To others, she was an ice queen, holding back emotions and doing whatever was necessary to get the job done. She pushed them back so far, she doubted that those feelings could ever resurface.

She knew she put space in between herself and everyone she's ever known. Touching their skin and knowing what they feel and think has never been a pleasant experience. Lust from men, jealousy from women and anger from criminals. She hated learning the dark sides of her former friends and colleagues, even if it were only for an instance and purely accidental. Therefore the imaginary bubble was a friendly formality. They liked her and appreciated her work, but she was utterly forgettable outside of the job. She was non-existent at office parties or employee get-togethers. Why should she change now? Just because someone wants to be closer?

"I don't mind you know, if people make fun of me," Sakaki said barely above a whisper. "I get it. I mess up a lot. You don't have to make me feel better. Sometimes...sometimes it's worse, because it doesn't feel genuine. It doesn't feel like we're partners. It doesn't feel like we're anything."

"After this, we won't be together, anyway," Karasuma said, avoiding eye contact with Sakaki, who quickly turned his head to her. "We all have to split up so it is harder for Solomon to find us."

She looked back over to see Sakaki appear more frightened than she's seen him before. His eyes widened.

"Sakaki..." Before Karasuma could register what was going on, she was pushed against the couch by Sakaki, who currently wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in the crook of her neck.

"Karasuma-san...please let me go with you, wherever it is you plan on going."

"Are you afraid of being out there on your own?"

"I don't want someone to take care of me..but...I do need someone."

"Michael will probably feel the same."

Sakaki coughed. "That's not really...that isn't...what I meant."

Karasuma blushed, belatedly realizing that no part of his skin was actually coming in contact with hers. Sakaki pushed himself up, and upon seeing his legs awkwardly surrounding hers, he became bright red and tried to help her back into her original position. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"That's okay." Karasuma tried to smooth out her skirt, which was hitched up more than she would have liked. Standing up, she leaned over and took one of Sakaki's hands, pulling him up. "I don't think I want to have to start all over, either," she managed, ignoring the other voices telling her not to get close. "When this is all over, we'll see what happens next, Sakaki."

"Haruto."

"What?"

"You can call me Haruto, if you want Karasuma-san."

She paused. "Miho is fine for me...Haruto."

Sakaki brightened and tightened his grasp on her two hands.

* * *

The witches stared at him. Being a leader required finesse and the ability to avoid telling the whole truth in any give situation. Amon on the whole preferred to not talk at all, but that apparently was not going to cut it this time. From his experience, lying only makes things worse. Right now, he had very few options left. 

"I'd like to know what happened," Dumbledore said in the kindest way of ordering someone Amon's every heard.

Michael and Doujima were glancing at one another, trying to communicate using very rough and blatant hand signals. Robin was keeping her distance from him, but she was still closer than his concentration needed.

"Karasuma is very empathetic toward other people's feelings." The witches still stared straight ahead. "If the witch had experienced and was remembering something terrifying, then she must have tapped into that fear."

"Tapped into it?" Lupin asked. "How can she do that?"

Amon mulled over his next words. Telling them Solomon's greatest secret was no longer his concern, though he didn't want the information to fall into the wrong hands, leading to one of the witches going on a Solomon rampage - however entertaining that may be. He covertly glanced at Robin and looked back at Lupin. He still wasn't sure if Robin wouldn't convert if the witches knew she was the same. It's not that he was afraid to lose her, it's just she'd be a hard opponent to face.

Though the probability was dwindling, there was also a chance that the witches may become hostile toward Robin and Karasuma, if not physically, then at least verbally. Amon instinctively shifted positions so he was slightly more in between the witches and Robin.

"Karasuma is what headquarters has labeled as a craft-user," Amon said.

"Craft-user?" Dumbledore asked. "Does that mean she's a wizard?"

Amon swallowed. "Similar, but not the same."

The room was silent, but Amon could feel the tension rising.

"But, wouldn't that mean..." Tonks began.

"They're hunting their own kind!" Sirius exclaimed, obviously not settled by the earlier commotion.

"Craft-users are not the same as witches," Amon said coldly, half reassuring himself on that fact. "Their methods are completely different."

"How so?"

The old man was asking way too many questions, but he supposed he would do the same if their situations were reversed.

"They don't use wands, but instead they concentrate on developing their innate gifts." Amon was sure he almost choked on the word "gift," but saying "curse" instead would have either resulted in more questions or an entirely new argument. "Craft-users also do not use their powers outside of work. They use it only to track down criminals."

The group of witches were slowly processing the information. Dumbledore breathed out of his nose. "Which of your other group members are craft-users?"

Amon narrowed his eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to gauge how strong your team will be against Voldemort."

"We can handle-"

"I am," Robin interrupted. Amon glanced over his shoulder. She wasn't looking at him. "It's just me and Karasuma."

"And what can you do?"

"I'm a fire craft-user."

"Robin," Amon said, implicitly ordering her to keep quiet. No one ever seemed to listen to him when it was the most important time to do so. "Michael, Doujima, Robin. Go back to the room we were assigned."

None of them were moving, either afraid of leaving one of the team behind with a very large group of witches, or suddenly knowledgeable that they don't have to listen to him anymore. "Go."

The trio turned around and headed toward the common room. Instead of a foreboding fear that most people would have in that situation, Amon could taste a little bit of freedom without his team, fully realizing that his sidearm would unleash more damage than the witches would be ready for.

"You're quite hard on your hunters," Dumbledore said, peering at him through the lowered spectacles. Amon in turn glared back.

"Why didn't you tell us before?"

"It's no business of yours."

"I heard of a story of a Solomon hunter who was captured by a group of wizards a long time ago." Amon turned around to face him. The old man resembled any other elderly man, obviously fascinated by the ability to jump into any past story with absolutely no warning. "He was the only one on record to have been captured by a wizard. You hunters are very elusive. The wizards interrogated him for days with no avail. He gave no scrap of information and was quite resolute in his loyalty to Solomon. Two weeks after his capture, he bit his tongue and bled to death."

Dumbledore walked over to Amon. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm guessing not many hunters give away priceless information, especially when it deals with how they track wizards."

"The man the witches captured was not responsible for another group of hunters. It's easy to sacrifice yourself when there's no one else you have to protect."

Dumbledore smiled in the type of way a grandfather would, or at least what Amon thought some ordinary male familial relation would.

"We can discuss the matter further later on," Dumbledore said. "Right now, one of your hunters needs you."

Amon, slightly annoyed that a witch was giving him permission to leave a room, headed toward the door. Dumbledore's hand stopped his shoulder. Amon immediately put his hand on his holster underneath his coat. He half-turned to see Dumbledore still smiling, this time with a mischievous glint. "Don't be so hard on the little one," he said. "She's only trying to lighten the load."

Amon huffed and ripped his shoulder out of the old man's grasp. Storming out, Amon felt a little childish, but nonetheless relieved that he had dodged any sort of confrontation. Nothing was said about not attacking one another, but at least he had time to prepare. He stopped at the glaring man's portrait.

Saturn - the father of all the Gods. He was staunchly proud, believing himself to be the most powerful being in all the world. Yet, what destroyed him was the fear of his offspring - his own blood. Amon had a gut feeling that the old witch had a terribly ironic sense of humor.


	12. Chapter 11: Confrontation

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter

A/N: I finally updated after a summer of reworking this one chapter and also trying to get the file onto a computer that will actually connect to the internet. The next chapter is near complete and will definitely not take as much time as this one did. Enjoy and I'll be updating again soon.

Chapter 11: Confrontation

She felt as though it had been an eternity since she last saw him. Under his strict orders, she had reluctantly left him with a room full of people that could potentially hurt him, though rationally she didn't believe any of the witches would. Now, as he nonchalantly walked past the portrait, she wanted to put her arms around him and make sure he'd never do anything stupid or brave again.

He stopped in mid-stride when he saw her. Robin was never really adept at telling what emotions passed over his face, but something told her he wasn't nearly as happy to see her as she was with him.

"Where are the others?"

Robin lowered her eyes. "Doujima is upstairs checking in on Karasuma, and Michael is talking to Sakaki in the boys' bedroom."

Without acknowledging that she had just responded to his question, Amon leaned against one of the common room chairs and blindly looked at the portraits around the room. "Why aren't you checking on Karasuma's condition?"

Robin tightly held both of her hands together in front of her dress. "Doujima said she could handle it...and...I wanted to wait for you." Robin's cheeks and ears flushed bright red. Of course, he had no reaction.

Amon was still in the same position. His face had not even twitched. Every time she looked at him, he was like a statue of some Greek god. Alabaster, chiseled, poised, conqueror of his surroundings. He also seemed cold to everything and everyone around him.

"Go upstairs and tell the others that they're going to need a briefing on the situation." Robin stood still with her head down. "Ro-"

"I'm sorry," Robin choked out. "I'm so sorry for telling them about my powers. But, we've kept so many things from them. If we are going to defeat Voldemort together, then they should know what we're capable of." Robin raised her head. "Please under..."

Her throat went dry. She had never seen that look on Amon's face before. Even when she had done poorly on her first assignment and was always caught by Sakaki for tampering with the crime scene, Amon had never looked at her like that. She'd seen it before on the nuns' faces when she had spilled a bucket of soap water or broken an expensive relic. But this seemed different. She never wanted him to look at her in utter disappointment. What's worse is that there was something else. Hatred? Doubt? Betrayal? Robin felt as though an invisible hand were crushing her windpipe, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't breathe in enough air.

She fell to her knees and tried to calm her breathing. She was hyperventilating from a mere look that would have been lost had she blinked. Tears were forming around her eyes and slowly sliding down her face. She hesitantly looked over at Amon. He was looking away. It was the same stance people take when trying to avoid looking at a homeless person. The tears fell faster, and she couldn't suppress the embarrassing hiccups that naturally accompany her erratic breathing.

What was so wrong with what she said or did? She was only trying to help him and everyone else. Wouldn't everyone knowing about her powers make it for Amon to decide what to do next? Wouldn't the witches be less likely to attack a group of people whom they know are their equals? She didn't understand. Why doesn't he just tell her what he's planning? Why does he never tell her anything?

"What's going on?" Robin looked up at the stairs where Karasuma looked mortified at the scene before her. Despite wearing high-heels which Robin couldn't fathom ever walking in, Karasuma ran down the stairs and picked up Robin by her arm. "Go upstairs. I want a word with Amon." Robin, self-consciously covering up her face with her hands, looked worriedly over at Amon. That only seemed to make Karasuma angrier. "Now, Robin."

Robin speedily ran to the bedroom, but didn't shut the door. She heard muffled arguing, almost stereotypical of the parental squabbling she's heard about. A female voice was the only one in earshot. Amon wasn't putting up much of a fight. Karasuma's voice got louder, but Robin couldn't make out what she was saying. She then heard a low, more subdued voice, which was quickly followed by a resounding slap.

Wishing she wasn't always worried about Amon's well-being, she took a step downward and was met by a fuming Karasuma.

"C'mon Robin. I don't want you going down there." Karasuma pulled Robin into the room and slammed the door. Apparently Robin wasn't the only one trying to catch her breath. "That man," she exclaimed more to herself than screaming it to the world.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Robin barely whispered, still recovering from her violent crying but wanting to defend him in some way.

Karasuma looked over at her with an incredulous but sympathetic stare. She took out a packet of tissues that she had accepted from a person in Tokyo before boarding the plane. "I guess these really do come in handy sometimes."

Robin gladly accepted the packet and started wiping her nose. Both girls sat on the edge of the bed not speaking. Robin jerked a little when Karasuma's hand began brushing her hair away from her face, but she was happy that the older woman was trying to soothe her. Even though Karasuma wore gloves and had that earlier incident with her craft, she was still willing to take care of a 15-year-old girl. Robin never felt so young in her life.

"My mother used to do this when I was upset," Karasuma said, still brushing Robin's hair. "A touch can be very powerful." She paused. "I'm sorry if my outburst scared you. I was sort of expecting him to push the envelope too far. I guess we're all a little stressed." She laughed a little. "You're not even the first person I had to calm down today."

Robin looked over at her. "Sakaki," Karasuma said, noticeably smiling. "He was more worried about me than I was."

"He is your partner."

Karasuma enigmatically smiled and looked down at Robin. "Of course." It was the kind of statement that adults say to children when they think they can't understand what's actually going on. Robin frowned. Maybe Amon felt the same way. Karasuma withdrew her hand. "What is it?"

"Do you see me only as a child?"

"Is that what Amon said?" Robin shook her head sullenly. "No, not really. In reality, you're only four years younger than I am, but you're far more grown up than other people I know, like Yurika for example."

"Isn't Doujima here?"

"She went to go check on the boys to make sure they weren't being too rowdy with their theories. You know how their minds can run wild sometimes."

Robin smiled. "Thank you, for cheering me up."

Karasuma smiled in return. "Everything will be okay."

Robin paused. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

"Really, Robin..." Robin looked up at her. Karasuma sighed. "I think my hand is throbbing more than his jaw."

"But he's alright?"

"I can't say I stopped to ask him. Why are you so worried?"

Robin laid down on her side, facing the wall. "Amon hadn't said anything. He...he just...he looked so disappointed in me."

"Because you're not a good little soldier like he is?"

Robin brought her legs up to her chest. "That wasn't it. There was something else." Robin could picture his face so clearly.

"Don't." Robin looked back over at Karasuma. "Don't worry about it now, Robin. Remembering it now while you're still emotional will only make it hurt more."

"What did he say that made you so angry?"

"I think you should try to sleep, Robin."

"Karasuma."

She sighed and looked away. "Whatever he did say, he hadn't meant it, not that I believe he did anyway." She smiled at Robin and rested her hand on Robin's head. "You're tired. Rest and I'll wake you up if we're going anywhere."

"Amon said he wanted a briefing."

"Believe me. He won't want one now."

* * *

Nagira looked over at his younger brother. He had heard about the commotion last night from Remus and expected the huge amount of space lingering between where the hunters sat and where the witches sat. He hadn't expected his brother to be separated from the other hunters, though. 

He walked over, sat across from Amon and generously piled some of the food onto his plate. Amon wasn't eating.

"I don't know what your normal eating habits are, Amon, but if you don't eat something soon, you'll probably become invisible."

Amon glanced at him and went back to reading his book.

Nagira sighed. "So what exactly is so interesting that one of your basic needs doesn't compare."

"It's a log of witches that this school has compiled," Amon said without looking up. "Some of it has genealogy included, which could help us find out how many witches exist in this one area."

"Isn't that more of a Solomon goal?"

Amon stopped turning the pages. "I suppose."

Nagira ate some of the food on his plate. He was never a fan of the English breakfast and was immensely surprised that the house elves had made some Japanese food. It was pretty good despite being the elves' first try at the dishes. He's lived in Japan for all of his 28 years and the only thing he could cook was microwavable soba.

"The food is surprisingly good," Nagira commented, partially to Amon whom he knew wasn't paying close attention. "I hope your hunters are appreciating the effort."

Nagira noticed Amon's slight hesitation. "Sakaki and Karasuma are probably happy, but the other three are European or American. Besides they can't really complain about getting food here."

"Just 'they?' When did you stop referring to your group as 'we?'" Amon's lips tightened. Nagira chuckled. "What happened now, otouto?" Amon pretended to be immersed in his book. "Amon-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, but tell me, does this have to do with the slight discoloration on your cheek?" Amon's eyes narrowed. "Don't worry. I barely noticed, and I'm sitting right across from you. I'm a little surprised, though. You're team isn't exactly the mutinous type...well...not against you, anyway."

Amon continued reading. "Speaking of mutiny," Nagira began, "I heard that the witches know that you're not affiliated with Solomon anymore. You may think this is a risky situation, now, but I assure you, these people aren't the type of people you think they are."

"They're witches."

"So are some of your hunters."

"I know."

Nagira blinked. "Don't tell me you plan on going solo from now on. Those girls may have that kind of power, but they are still your colleagues. They trust you and for whatever unfathomable reason still care about you, too."

Amon stood up and walked out of the Great Hall. Nagira regretfully left his food behind and quickly followed. "Get back here, Amon. Who the hell leaves in the middle of a conversation anyway?"

Amon abruptly turned and stared down at Nagira. "You know that doesn't work on me, otouto."

"They are more interested in fighting alongside the witches than fighting against them," Amon said, by-passing Nagira's typical inane comment.

"I don't see how that's a problem."

"I can't trust or fight with hunters who think of themselves as witches."

"So if they aren't with you, they're against you."

"You're simplifying the situation."

"And you're complicating it. I don't know what happened to you guys last night, but that girl still gave you quite the look when you walked out. She's obviously still-"

"I don't care about how Robin feels! She disobeyed a direct order. How can I figure out what to do if I can't rely on the others to follow my lead? It's better to do the rest on my own."

"There's always some measure of doubt with how well everyone else follows orders. You know she probably did what she did in your best interest, whether you can see that or not. Why are you so afraid to share her abilities?"

Amon looked away. "They'll use her against Solomon."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean she'll turn against you. You are no longer a part of Solomon, remember?"

Amon turned his back to Nagira. "They'll turn Robin into someone like her."

Nagira grabbed Amon's arm, but didn't bother trying to turn him around. "There are other ways you can try to prevent that from happening. You weren't able to do anything back then, but you can now. However, abandoning your hunters will not save anyone."

Amon barely turned his head and continued to walk down the hallway. Nagira turned back and headed toward the Great Hall and a meal he hoped the elves didn't take away yet.

Nagira never knew Amon's mother. He saw her once and she seemed nice enough. Amon had never gone into great deal about what had happened to the two of them. Whatever it was, the old saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely was probably a good way to sum it up.

Amon's little partner was swiftly walking in the direction of his little brother. She looked worried, probably at Amon's sudden departure from the breakfast table. She passed him without a second glance. Maybe he was losing his charming good looks. Then again, she liked Amon, so maybe she just had bad taste.

Nagira continued walking to the Great Hall. He desperately wanted to follow her and witness their conversation (and/or save her from being hurt) but decided that it was best if his brother didn't catch him snooping around. Besides, maybe things will actually go well for the girl.

* * *

Somehow Robin managed to catch up to Amon who either wasn't walking very fast or had slowed down upon hearing her hurried steps. It was a good thing she found him. The part of the castle they were in was new territory for her. She would have never found her way back if she was alone. It was more motivation for her to not make him angry and leave without her. 

Amon had completely stopped and was obviously waiting for her to get to him, though he made no move to turn in her direction. She really hoped that he wasn't still mad at her from last night. She'll apologize again, but maybe bringing it up was not such a good idea. She'll wait it out and see what kind of mood he is in.

She stopped next to him and tried to catch her breath. She didn't even have the courage to look up at him yet. She still remembered the way he looked at her before. She swallowed. Apparently planning to speak to Amon was easier than doing so.

"You should get back and eat something," Amon said as blank as ever. "That privilege may not last long."

Robin looked up. He didn't seem any different than usual. She frowned a bit. The situation didn't seem to affect him as much as it did her. "Are you OK, Amon? You weren't eating anything, either."

"I can last quite a while without food. Besides, I have no intention of accepting what they offer me."

"Amon." Robin looked down. Saying what she said before will only end the same way. She has to take a different approach if she really wants this to sink in. "Amon, you should eat something, though. Everyone's depending on you. I don't think any of us have the slightest idea about what we should do now."

"What do you plan to do after this?" Robin looked over at him, plainly confused at the sudden change in topic. "We will eventually take down this witch, but we aren't a part of Solomon. What are you going to do when we no longer have a place to go back to."

Robin felt slightly awkward speaking with Amon about her future. Trying not to think of the implications, she was at least happy he was interested. "I don't really know. It would be nice if we could all stay together. What do you plan on doing, Amon?"

"I'm not sure staying together is going to be an option. After all, Solomon may start looking for us. Being in a large group would only be suspicious."

"Oh." Robin frowned. She wasn't warming to the idea of never seeing Amon again. She didn't want to part with the others either, but she really didn't want to be away from him, no matter how often he seemed to affect her, albeit usually in an unkind way. She looked straight at him. "Could I still go with you? I mean, just you?"

Amon didn't break her gaze. "It would probably be easier for you if you stayed here. I'm sure the witches wouldn't mind gaining another member."

"I don't really like it here," Robin said, hugging her arms. "Something feels off. Besides, staying here means I can't see you. You wouldn't stay here, right?"

Amon sighed. "No, I wouldn't."

Robin closed her eyes and smiled. The conversation was going over better than most of their other conversations, although she hoped she wasn't coming on too strong with staying by Amon's side. Two hands clapping onto each of her shoulders startled her. Amon hadn't made any sound but he had managed to stand directly in front of her, looking down with an embarrassing amount of intensity. Robin almost fainted.

"I need you to be completely honest for a second." Robin nodded not trusting her voice and slightly paying too much attention to Amon's mouth. "Is there any part of you that wants to stay here and fight with the witches against Solomon?" Robin looked down at his chest. Amon put both of his hands against her face and raised it back up. "Don't think about what I want to hear, just tell me how you feel."

Blushing from ear to ear, Robin could barely think about where she was much less what she wanted to do. "I want to help people...but...but I don't want to hurt innocent people by doing so. Hunters can be blind to Solomon's intentions and someone like you or the others could be the next ones to attack us. I don't think I could bear to hurt them. So, no. I don't want to stay here and fight."

Amon put his hands back on her shoulders. He was slightly smiling. "I see."

"Amon, why did you ask me that?"

"I wasn't sure what you wanted to do."

"That's it?"

Amon didn't answer. Robin put her hands over his. "It's your turn to be completely honest."

"I wasn't aware I had made a deal." Robin tightened her grip. She ignored the fact that he wasn't wearing any gloves because of the breakfast this morning. "I had to make sure you wouldn't side with them if they asked."

"Why would they ask?"

"You're more powerful because of the different kind of craft you possess." Amon paused. "They could use you merely for that power."

Robin smiled. He was worried. Sometimes men are far more complicated than they want to admit. "Amon?"

"Yes?"

"You still didn't answer whether I could go with you when everything is over."

Amon looked at their hands. "I haven't decided where I'm going yet, but I'll tell you when the time comes and you can decide then."

As that would be the closest thing to an answer Robin was likely to get, she grabbed both of his hands and took them off her shoulder, but didn't let go. Amon's hands were much bigger than hers, but they weren't as rough as she had imagined. She wished he didn't wear gloves so much.

"We should get back to breakfast, and you should eat something. After all, we don't know what they'll do when I refuse their offer." Robin let go of one hand and led Amon back with the other. He wasn't putting up a struggle and wasn't trying to break free from her grasp (even if he was covertly looking around for anyone else in the hallway). Robin held on tighter. She wasn't going to let go of him.


	13. Chapter 12: Regroup and Research

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter

A/N: Here's the next installment and beware of some extreme liberties I've taken with the series. It is an AU fic after all. Apologies for the style change as well. is being fussy.

Chapter 12: Regroup and Research

Michael flipped past another page in the book. For someone who spends his time a foot away from the computer screen for around 15 hours a day, he was very surprised to find his eyes were beginning to hurt after five hours of research. He blamed it on the dust.

The hunters had moved to researching this Voldemort person as they figured they should probably know who they're fighting. They also desperately needed to kill time. The witches were doing some sort of preparation with magic and calling in reinforcements, but not much was left for the hunters to take care of. In other words, they were stuck in the library.

Unluckily for them, only one book actually mentioned the "Dark Lord" in passing. Apparently the subject of Voldemort was not a popular one in witch literature. Amon decided that they would have to base their info solely on what the witches were telling them. No one seemed to enjoy that thought too much.

As their primary reason for being in the library was taken away, everyone decided to do other bits of research on the wizarding world. Michael pitied Karasuma who had somehow gotten stuck with perusing "Hogwarts, A History." Not only was the title terribly uninteresting, but the book was at least five times the size of the other books. She was still only halfway through it.

Unsurprisingly, Doujima had given up after reading half of a book and has since tried to look for something interesting to read. She's still looking.

Haruto had lasted a little longer, waiting until after his first book to give up. He instead chose to read over Karasuma's shoulder, though he guessed that "reading" should be replaced with "looking at the pictures." Michael didn't know why Karasuma didn't push Haruto away and put another book in front of him. Maybe everyone was getting more lax with the rules.

Michael tried to covertly glance at Amon and Robin. Amon always seemed to know when someone was looking at him. Not only did that creep the hell out of him, but Amon would probably point out the fact that he was staring using the most embarrassing method possible. Michael had wanted to place a bet that Amon was really a sadist, but Haruto wasn't willing to bet against that.

Despite his own reservations about Amon's character, Robin seemed quite comfortable sitting next to him. Robin was looking through past issues of the witches' newspaper, a job which both Haruto and Doujima had fought hard for but was overruled by Amon. He heard from Haruto who weasled it out of Doujima who heard it from Karasuma that Amon and Robin had some sort of argument, to which Karasuma tried to vehemently play down at breakfast. Maybe Amon was trying to make up for putting her down. Then again, Robin was acting kind of lovey-dovey with him at breakfast after their sudden disappearance. His rational side was trying to quell the X-rated scenario created by his jealous side. So far, the rational side wasn't winning.

"Have you found something, Michael?"

Amon hadn't even looked up. "Uh...no...not anything of interest anyway." Michael focused back on his book. Though Amon seemed to pick on him a lot, he couldn't rule him out as just a jerk, either from all the times he saved everyone from the wrath of Zaizen or that mini heart-to-heart they had at the convict's house. It made him appreciate Amon and the situation a little more, but he never wanted to have another heart-to-heart with Amon again. He'd also prefer not repeating "at the convict's house" in any sentence ever again.

Doujima came back to the table and plopped down in her seat. She looked as though she had a fight with some of the books. "I can't believe it. Not one fashion book in this entire library."

"I'm not sure you'd be interested if you found a book, Yurika. Black robes aren't your type of clothing."

"You never know what you could find, Miho. Maybe I'll see something that I can start a new line with."

"I sincerely doubt that you could do that," Haruto said. "I wouldn't ever wear anything like that again. It's way too weird. It feels like I'm cosplaying or something."

"Then it's a good thing I don't trust the fashion sense of an otaku like you."

Haruto seemed to be taking the insult surprisingly well. Maybe he was growing out of the argumentative phase.

"Bite me, Doujima." Well, maybe for a few more seconds.

Karasuma pushed him back into his seat. "Get another book, Sakaki." Michael smiled. Everything's back to normal.

Haruto frowned a bit and pulled out one of the books from his pile. It only took a page for him to start complaining. "Remind me why we're doing this again."

"We might find something useful," Karasuma said.

"Like what? I don't even know what I'm looking for."

For the first time in five hours, Amon looked up. "If you have something better to do, feel free to do so."

Haruto pursed his lips and went back to reading. Michael looked down at his book as well. It was a genetics book. Amon requested (more like ordered) that he look at it and tell him if anything was off. Most of it was scientific gibberish, but Michael was used to looking at genealogy files of witches. He would be the one most likely to catch something.

Michael stopped and readjusted his glasses. It wouldn't take a scientist to spot this. He hoped he wasn't too fixated on Robin that he had actually begun to see her name everywhere. He looked at the rest to make sure it wasn't about a bird.

"Project Robin?"

"Did you say my name, Michael?"

"Uh...yeah...but it's in this book and dates back...15 years ago?"

"Cripes. Talk about a coincidence."

Amon ignored Haruto. "What is it about?"

"As far as I can tell, it's some sort of genetic experiment. There aren't many details here. Only that a guy named Toudou started it and used a girl as the test subject. It says that the girl was a daughter of some big shot at Solomon. Amon, do you know a guy called Juliano Colegui?"

Robin's eyes widened. "But, that's my grandfather."

Everyone looked at one another, quickly coming to the same conclusion. Amon leaned over the table. "Does it say anything else, Michael?"

"No. It's just a log that states an experiment took place. It doesn't even say why or what the results were."

"Are there any other names listed?" Amon asked, sounding a bit more desperate than usual. "If it's written in here, there must be some sort of link to a witch in England. No one would have found out if it were purely a Solomon experiment."

"It doesn't say a name." Amon looked down at the table trying to think of something else.

"Wait," Doujima interrupted. "If it was 15 years ago and called Project Robin, then it would be safe to assume that Robin is what they wanted to achieve." Robin shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "If what Toudou found could endanger the life of Robin as a child, where would the safest place to put her be?"

Karasuma closed the book and pointed to the title. "I've read hundreds of pages on protective curses placed on this school. This would be the first place I'd send my child if she needed protection."

Michael adjusted his glasses. "Which would mean..."

Amon stood up. "Dumbledore."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doujima would have called the run to Dumbledore's office a mad dash or something very akin to that. Though she was sure the group must have beaten an Olympic track record, the hunters still had to wait outside as none of them actually knew how to get into the office. Though this would be the time where Amon or Michael would attempt a few guesses at what the password may be, she was sure neither of them were going to say something like "lemon drops" or something far more detrimental to a man's ego. Sometimes they are so easy to read.

A lingering scent of cigarette smoke and the swishing of a long coat cued Doujima in to who was behind her before the hands even landed on her hips. She caught his wrists in mid-air. "I think you need to work on your approach."

"I guess I do." Nagira grinned at her quick reaction. The others looked in their direction. Amon quickly rolled his eyes and turned away. "So what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Can't you tell?"

"Does my little brother want to harass poor old Dumbledore again?"

"Wrong answer. I guess you can't trust a lawyer's intuition."

"But I was right about Dumbledore."

"I don't give half credit, but you could make up for it by telling me what the password is."

"What makes you think I know it?"

"Woman's intuition. Plus there aren't any other rooms in this area for you to be heading to."

"Smart girl. I can't imagine why Amon doesn't fancy you instead."

"We don't need distractions right now, Nagira," Amon interrupted. "The password."

"Short and sweet as always. You know, you could learn a few things by watching your older brother."

"I'm sure nothing you do will be beneficial to me."

"I'm good for some things. I got you to say 'we' again."

"The password."

"Chazwuzzers."

The staircase unwound itself around the statue. "I'm running a little late," Nagira said. "You're all going to have to live with crashing an important meeting."

"I'm sure we'll manage."

"That 'we' again. Are you sure you don't owe your 'nii-san a few words?"

"I'm sure I don't."

Amon headed up the stairs with a somewhat confused looking Robin in tow. Doujima closed in on Nagira to figure out what else he knew.

"What is this meeting about, anyway?"

"Well, little missy, I believe it's about what we should do with you. Apparently the reinforcements aren't too keen on working with former Solomon hunters." Nagira paused to look her up and down. "They obviously have never seen you."

"Obviously."

Miho put her hands on her hips. "Are you two coming or not?"

Doujima took Nagira's arm and headed toward the steps. "We don't want to miss your brother's grand entrance."

"That we do not. Sirius also has some amusing facial expressions and derogatory remarks whenever my charming brother is around."

Miho rolled her eyes "I wouldn't have thought that any relation to Amon would have been a perfect match for you, Yurika."

"Don't worry Miho. I'm sure when this is all over, we can go out and find you a nice boy, too."

Sakaki stormed down the steps to where the three were chatting. "Can't you keep your mind on the mission, Doujima. Amon-san's about to go into Dumbledore's office."

Doujima was about to fire back another response, but Miho stepped in between them. "Let's just join Amon before he drags Robin and Michael with him alone." Miho pushed Sakaki up the steps while Nagira and Doujima hurried up to see the witches' reaction.

Doujima was so impressed by Dumbledore's office that she almost missed Sirius' facial explosion. Almost. The man looked as though he were about to charge and tackle Amon. The convict had cleaned up a considerable amount since last night, maybe getting ready for a forced apology to Miho. His lack of facial hair and grime only made his anger more obvious to everyone in the room. She assumed that his face wouldn't be the only thing talking.

"I wasn't aware we invited them," Sirius said accusingly to Dumbledore.

"We hadn't. Now sit down, Sirius." The old witch continued to stare at Sirius until he sat back down. "What can we do for you?"

The room had been set up with a circle of chairs surrounding Dumbledore's desk. The group included some of the usual suspects, though some of the others were new and were most likely the reinforcements.

"We need to talk." Amon again took position as leader, whether or not that was the best idea as he was more than likely the least favorite out of the group.

"Go ahead."

"It only concerns you."

Dumbledore sighed. "Our conversation will eventually be leaked to everyone in this room either by me or by one of the paintings, so if you could save an old man the trouble of repeating himself, I'd appreciate it if we stayed here."

Amon paused and looked around the room. Robin stayed close as usual, and Michael, Sakaki and Miho weren't far behind. Nagira stayed with Doujima even though his seat at the round table was still unoccupied.

"We want to know if you were ever approached by a man named Toudou."

Dumbledore hummed to himself. "I've seen and met thousands of people, and I cannot always remember their names. Could you narrow it down?"

Amon narrowed his eyes. The old man was obviously baiting him to give up more information, however, Amon's choices were rather limited. "He was a scientist. He probably talked to you concerning a child."

"Ah yes." Dumbledore smiled in full twinkle mode while Amon was on the verge of strangling him. Doujima could have laughed at the clash of two very different personalities. "I do remember a scientist who talked to me about a little girl. Unfortunately he was from Solomon and to protect the other children, I could do nothing for the young man."

Amon stared at Dumbledore. "That may have been the reason you gave Toudou, but I think there's something more you're not telling us. Protecting the children alone would not have motivated you to refuse a child. Your werewolf friend is example enough."

Remus reddened and scratched the back of his head. The comment earned Amon a double-teamed glare-down with Sirius and Tonks combining forces against Amon. He didn't seem to notice.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "You're right. I didn't refuse him purely because of his attachment to Solomon. I was willing to take the baby girl in or let a family raise her in England, but his explanation about the girl concerned me. He claimed he had cloned the girl from her mother and genetically altered her DNA so she would become the most powerful wizard in the world."

The old witch readjusted his glasses. "I didn't know what Solomon's advancements in muggle science was like, but I highly doubted that something like that would even be possible. I'm not normally a distrusting man, but I couldn't afford to place anyone related to Solomon in one of our witches' care. That's why I refused. "Dumbledore looked at the entire group. "What made you ask?"

"Is that all he said?" Amon asked, visibly irritated at having to interrogate the old man further (or at the glares sent in his direction). "Did he mention anything else about the experiment?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "I can't fully remember the conversation, but there's one way we can find out."

Doujima watched as the old witch walked over to what she had thought was his sink. He then used his wand to extract a silver string from his head. She looked quickly to Nagira, who also had no idea what was happening.

Dumbledore smiled at the hunters' open mouths. "It's called a pensieve. I can use it to reexamine some of my cloudier memories a little more closely." He looked at them with mischievous interest. "Would any of you like to join me?"

The group stared at each other in horror. The prospect of seeing it first hand would be far more reliable than hearing the witch's version, but they didn't have a clue about what would happen to them if they took a look at it. "A summary should suffice," Amon said.

Dumbledore feigned a hurt look and continued to watch his memory. The whole thing seemed rather shady to Doujima, but she supposed it was the only way to get information.

"Ah!" Dumbledore suddenly exclaimed frightening half of the hunters in the process. "He told me that the girl would be some sort of Eve to us, as if she were the only wizard who could have children who were also wizards. I think that is what tipped me off as being suspicious. In England we have pureblood families that have heirs who are also witches."

"I think that's just a coincidence," Michael piped in, though by the look on his face he was instantly regretting walking into the conversation.

"I'm sorry, my boy. What was that?"

"Um...I just think that witches are more prone to be born with other witches, or at least it's easier to identify their powers as being a witch when the family is expecting it." Michael looked around at the many skeptical faces. He opened the book he had been carrying in case they needed to reference Robin's entry.

"I've been studying this book on genealogy, and I take care of most of the files recorded in Solomon's database. While there is some link, many of the witches we see do not have any relatives who are witches. The one's who are related are not always a direct relation, or if they are, Solomon scientists have not been able to locate a specific gene making them that way. I mean, if they had, you guys would be a lot easier to hunt."

Michael coughed. "Ummm...yeah...anyway, you're genealogy chart looks as though it were a family tree but there seems to be a large sum of people who aren't witches in mostly witch households."

"Squibs," Remus said, suddenly remembering something. "There have been a lot of squibs recently. The decreasing number has been there for a millennium or so, but class size has reduced considerably since I was here."

Dumbledore looked at Remus and back to Michael. "Was he telling the truth then?"

"Oh...well..." Michael quickly glanced at Robin. "We're not really sure, but statistically he was right about the inability to produce offspring."

Dumbledore sighed. "I turned away a child who needed me. A month after he left I checked up on his whereabouts only to find that he was dead and the child had been killed by her grandfather." Robin noticeably straightened her posture. Dumbledore looked at the hunters. "Why bring this up now?"

Michael desperately looked to Amon to field the question. "Not many Solomon names are mentioned in your books. We took interest in the fact that not only was there a name of a hunter, but that there was also information about a Solomon experiment." Doujima was impressed by how well Amon could lie, though technically it was a half-truth. She only hoped Amon's brother didn't have that same ability.

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow. Remus was equally put-off. "That doesn't really explain the need to talk all of a sudden," Remus said. "How many years ago was this?"

"Fifteen," Dumbledore said. "I do have to agree with Remus. You could have waited."

"And you could have been lying to us about how much you knew about Solomon," Amon said, relieving the other hunters from having to argue the situation. "We weren't about to stay for a few more hours without knowing the full extent of your dealings with Solomon. The most insignificant detail to you can be a strong enough link to lead Solomon straight here." Doujima would have kissed Amon if she didn't think Robin would incinerate her on the spot.

Both Dumbledore and Remus seemed to have conceded to Amon's argument, neither really understanding what Solomon was fully capable of.

"That's it!" Hunters and witches alike looked around the room for the voice without a body. Muffled voices sounded near Sirius, and a boy came tumbling out, dragging a cloak behind him. The three other children were now in plain sight.

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry yelled as one. Neville still lay entangled in the cloak on the floor.

"How did you get here?" Sirius exclaimed, overacting the part. For a convict, he was a terrible liar.

Dumbledore shook his head, though most likely secretly proud that they had gone unnoticed even though four of them had been under one cloak. "Sirius, why don't you escort the children back out."

"Wait, professor," Hermione chimed in. "I think I know the reason why they came. I remember picking up 'Wizarding Genealogy' from the library for a bit of light reading, and that passage in particular was the only one I had trouble with because I had never heard of Solomon before. The entry said that the experiment was called Project Robin. An experiment that was 15 years ago and now a girl named Robin who is 15 years old are more than just coincidences."

The witches turned their attention back to the hunters. Amon's jaw tightened. Doujima was sure the man was seriously considering pulling out his gun and firing. Robin's hand gripped the back of Amon's coat.

"Is she Toudou's creation then?" Dumbledore asked, eyeing Robin who was currently half-hiding behind Amon.

Amon sighed, glancing at Robin. "We don't know for sure, but we expect as much."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled at Robin. "If it's alright with you, Miss Sena, I think my colleagues and I would like to see what you're capable of."

Miho grabbed Robin by the shoulders. "Robin isn't a test subject for you to analyze. Robin is a girl just like Hermione or any other child you've taught. I won't let you treat her as if she were sub-human."

"It's OK," Robin said, smiling up at Miho. "I want to see myself what I'm capable of doing." Robin looked at Amon then back to the witches. "What is it that you want me to do?"


	14. Chapter 13: On Your Doorstep

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter

A/N: Just wanted to thank all of my lovely reviewers who have kept me on task for this story. It's getting down to the wire with only a few chapters remaining. I hope all you readers enjoy it.

Chapter 13: On Your Doorstep

Sakaki looked on as Robin burned a series of candles within a couple of seconds. It was similar to the tests Robin was given at Solomon, but the whole thing felt weird to him. For one thing, the size of the audience was considerably larger than normal.

To tell the truth, Sakaki really couldn't see much of anything. All of the hunters with the exception of Amon had been pushed to the back of the room. Of course he would have started a giant ruckus about being pushed aside had Miho not held him back. Sakaki seriously believed that if Miho weren't there, the hunters and witches wold have killed each other a long time ago.

So now he was in the back of an overcrowded room sitting next to the children who had also lost out on front row seats. Children? He was sure they would have been classmates under any other circumstance. That thought, however, didn't necessarily make him trust them.

Sakaki wasn't sure what he should think anymore. The witches were helping them, sort of. At least there seemed to be a dark and light side to the witches in England. Voldemort was bad, that he was sure of. Judging by Miho's scryed memory and the description the witches gave them, the guy was definitely a part of the other hunters' deaths.

Though the villain was a no-brainer, that didn't mean the other witches were the good guys. He worried for Robin and what they might do to her if she proved to be too valuable an asset. He was sure Amon could do something about it, and Miho was also an S-class hunter. But he felt pretty useless here. Research wasn't his thing, and he wasn't that good of a shot to make up for it in field work. He didn't know why Miho hadn't completely given up after being his partner for a week.

However, not only had she stuck it out with him, but she also agreed to stay with him when they decided to run from Solomon. Sakaki wasn't as young as Michael or Robin when he first started, but he honestly couldn't remember a place he could run away to. He couldn't put his family in danger and God knows what lies Solomon must be telling them now. Enough to disown him to say the least. It was a little more comforting knowing that the others were probably going through the same thing.

Michael was probably in the best situation. He was captured from his home, and he doubted that Michael's family would trust anything Solomon said. Though he despised giving her compliments, Doujima seemed like she could live through anything thrown in her direction, even a nuclear blast. She'd probably get through it, most likely with Amon's brother, which Sakaki dreaded to imagine.

Miho and himself were probably having the same troubles. They'd have to avoid friends and family and doing that on their own would have been incredibly difficult, though more so for Sakaki. He never thought as far ahead as Miho, and he would have been caught early on if he were on his own. He could have been dropped in Timbuktu and still managed to mess it up and attract Solomon attention.

Sakaki looked over at Miho. She had been staring at her gloved hands the entire time. She wasn't the type to open up to anyone, and he was surprised that she had done so in the common room. He had never really been alone with her except for hunts and stakeouts. He doubted that many people have ever really talked to her, even Doujima.

"She's that interesting, huh?" Sakaki spun his head to one of the red-haired twins who was sitting next to him. "Most people are looking ahead at your firey friend's spectacle."

Sakaki looked around then back at the twin. "Why are you talking to me?"

"George is getting a better view and will report back with the goods. So, I need something to do."

"Oh...um...Fred, right?"

"Yup."

"What do you think about all this? I mean working with us."

Fred overexaggerated a thoughtful pose. "Well, I don't know. You guys did kill a lot of witches."

"We didn't-"

Fred slapped Sakaki on the back. "Just joking, mate! You're a good enough bloke. You just gotta lighten up a little. Thought you're a right shy better than that captain of yours. He's quite the nutter isn't he?"

Sakaki laughed nervously. "I guess crazy is one word to describe it."

"Thought as much." Fred paused. "You know, no one's formally introduced us. You know my name, as George and I try to make that the first thing people learn when they come to Hogwarts. Can't say I know yours, though."

"Oh." Sakaki looked around to see if he was actually allowed to do this. No one was going to help him out. "I'm Haruto Sakaki."

"Ah, Haruto, pleasure's mine."

"Uh...yeah." Sakaki wasn't about to correct him on being so casual by using his first name.

"And who's your lady friend?"

"She's my partner, Miho Karasuma." Miho seemed too entranced by her hands to register that her name had been said.

"So the younger members get paired with older partners?"

Sakaki stubbornly turned to face the front. "She's not that much older than me."

Fred laughed and slapped him on the back again. What was with these British kids? "Didn't mean any offense, mate."

Sakaki looked down the line of teenagers. "Where did the boy with glasses go?"

"Huh? Oh, Harry must be sulking somewhere. That bird up front is taking away attention from Boy Wonder."

"Why exactly is Harry Potter so famous?"

"Because he lived." Sakaki looked at Fred expecting him to finish the sentence. Fred's smile widened.

George ran over and pocketed one of the many instruments Sakaki had seen the two building at meals. "The session's over, and they don't seem that impressed. We'd better get set up before they get to the 'secret' meeting room."

"Indeed." Fred turned to Sakaki. "Lovely chat, mate. We should do it again some time." Both Fred and George saluted and quickly stomped out the door.

Startled by the loud noise, Miho looked sharply at Sakaki. "What was that?"

Sakaki turned to her. "I have no idea."

Nagira marched over and flashed a less than exuberant smile. "The witches want to hold a private meeting, so I'm afraid you four have to go back to the common room. Amon and Robin will be up shortly."

Miho stood up. "What's going on? Why aren't they letting us into the meeting?"

Nagira glanced behind him. "I don't really know. They probably have to talk about the situation with as few interruptions as possible."

Miho took another concerned look toward the front and turned around. "We'd better get going then."

Sakaki made sure to walk alongside Miho out of the room. Once they were out of earshot, he turned to look at her. "Do you think everything's OK?"

Miho looked sullen but continued to walk. "I don't know. Having to guess what position we're in all the time is taking a toll on everyone. I'm starting to wish I never brought us here."

"We didn't have anywhere else to go." Sakaki smiled at her. "We probably wouldn't have lasted this long if it wasn't for you. I don't know how many times we've been in situations like these over the past couple of days, but we've pulled through. You and Amon-san seem to have a good handle on things."

Miho weakly smiled back. "I think both Amon and I have hit a will. I haven't seen Amon so tired before."

Sakaki blinked and faced forward. "How long have you known Amon-san?"

"He was the team leader when I joined the STN-J. I was 16 then. I can't believe it's only been three years."

Sakaki glanced over at her. "Were you and Amon ever close?"

Miho raised her eyebrows and looked at him. Sakaki very sheepishly tried to keep a serious face. She raised her hand to her mouth and laughed. "If you're implying what I think you're implying, then the answer is no. Amon is an attractive man, but he's not really my type." Miho slowed down her pace and looked down at her feet.

"I think I was afraid of him for a while. On one of my first hunts, I hadn't secured the perimeter properly, and the witch escaped. Amon eventually caught him, but the man had somehow impaled Amon with a stick through his shoulder. Since it was my fault, I offered to bandage his wound. I honestly didn't want to touch him because of the anger I thought I would feel. But when I took care of his shoulder, I felt nothing. There was no anger toward me, and no pain from his wound. My power wasn't as developed as it is now, but I should've felt something. I think that's when I started to fear what he was capable of. Amon was a man who could kill an innocent person without even blinking." Miho shook her head. "I'm sorry. I sound like an old woman rambling about the past."

Sakaki grabbed her shoulder and stopped her from moving any further. He turned to Doujima and Michael who were a few feet behind them. "Why don't you two go on ahead first. We'll be right behind you." The two looked questioningly at each other, but continued on to the common room.

Miho looked just as confused. "Sakaki-"

"Haruto."

Miho's cheeks reddened a little. "Haruto. What's wrong?"

"Should I be worried about where Amon-san is leading us?"

Miho smiled. "No. My first impression of him was wrong. If Robin never came, I may have still worried, but Amon is no longer just a soldier. You don't have to worry about his judgment."

"What does Robin have to do with it?"

Miho looked surprised. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Miho started laughing again. Sakaki's ears flushed bright red. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing." Sakaki frowned. "We should get back before Amon and Robin. They'll worry if we aren't back by then."

Sakaki nodded and continued to walk. "So...you're not going to tell me what's so funny."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, Haruto."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Remus watched as Dumbledore paced across the room. He did that a lot. It either made someone very nervous or very sleepy, as his footsteps sounded like a metronome. Remus felt neither.

The full moon was two days away, and he admittedly felt a little charged. He was always at his strongest during the week before a full moon. Wolves thrived on moonlight and for whatever reason, a full moon gave him the same strength. Although the very thought of a full moon frightened him, he was somewhat relieved to feel his strength returning, albeit for a little while. He didn't appear as sickly and his pale skin had a little bit of color.

However refreshing it was during the week, it also scared him to think that this time was perfect for Voldemort to strike, if he wanted to use the other werewolves. In this state, werewolves were strong, even in human form. Remus could even take on Sirius in Padfoot mode. If that was the case, then the other werewolves could easily take down a few wizards. He wasn't sure what the others were capable of, but one more person like Greyback was too many.

Harry shifted in his seat next to Remus. The children and the rest of the Order were allowed to attend the meeting. Dumbledore had looked very concerned when he watched the girl's powers. Remus only hoped that everything would be OK, and both the hunters and the wizards would come out of this unscathed.

Remus did, however, worry about Harry. His best friend's son would probably be questioning his purpose in the Order. Harry had always been the last defense against Voldemort. But now with Voldemort's power over Lily's magic and the presence of a new girl arguably more powerful than Harry, the boy had to reevaluate how powerful he really was. Remus dug a chocolate bar out of his pocket and handed it to Harry. Chocolate solved every problem for a little bit of time. At least it was healthier than alcohol.

"Albus." Minerva could always be counted on to incite Dumbledore into action. "What do you think about the girl?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I still have my reservations. She has an extraordinary gift, but I was expecting more from what the Solomon scientist had told me."

"He said that she will become a powerful wizard," Remus added. "We don't know when that will occur or if the girl needed training to become such a wizard. Prophecies generally lack a time frame."

Dumbledore looked to Sirius. "How hot was the fire she was creating?"

Sirius sighed. "It's a hotter flame than we can create with a wand, but not nearly strong enough to destroy the horcrux."

"We also have another problem," Kingsley Shacklebolt said. "I did some research on the horcrux. It has to be an object from one of the founders of Hogwarts, and I think this one belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. However, the pocket watch may be a time turner. I don't know what will happen if we destroy it."

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Unfortunately that's going to be a risk we have to take. Defeating Voldemort comes first, and the destruction of every horcrux is vital. If we do not destroy it, everything Regulus had accomplished would be in vain."

Remus glanced at Sirius. Although he was the older brother, Sirius had never really taken care of Regulus and had shunned him altogether when he became a Death Eater. Though Sirius never said anything to him about it, he was sure that Sirius was proud of what Regulus had done and regretted not spending more time with him. A kind-hearted Black was a rarity, after all. Sirius and Nymphadora's family were the only examples from a long line.

"What are our options on destroying the horcrux?" Dumbledore looked to Minerva.

She pinched his nose where her glasses were. It was more bad news. "As of right now, I see no way in which we could make a fire stronger than that of a phoenix. Even if we used Fawkes, we could not use a spell to make him any stronger."

"I want you to continue searching, Minerva. Alastor, do you know of a way to make a wizard stronger?"

Both of Moody's eyes were fixed on Dumbledore. "I know of a few ways, but I can't say for sure that any of 'em are going to work on a wizard like that. It's never really been done before."

Dumbledore seemed to be getting older each time another wizard gave him bad news. "We can't afford to put a spell on that girl. Right now she's our best chance at destroying the horcrux. I don't want anything back firing on her in case it doesn't work."

"Are you going to ensure all the hunters safety or just hers?" Nagira had been allowed in the meeting since he had successfully moved many witches out of harm's way. Remus could understand Nagira's wish to protect his brother, but many of the wizards did not share that same feeling.

"All of them will be safe, Mr. Nagira. Right now, we cannot make any more enemies." Dumbledore turned to Nymphadora. "Tonks. What news do you have on the Ministry? Will they side with us?"

Tonks also looked as though she were about to disappoint him. "That doesn't seem likely. The higher-ups think that the Dark Lord is dead."

Dumbledore looked to Remus. He anticipated the question and shook his head. "With the laws currently in place, the Ministry has made it very clear that werewolves will never be accepted. The werewolves have no motivation to join us, and we have nothing to offer them."

"Do they know that Voldemort is lying to them? He will never give them the freedom he is promising."

Remus looked at his scarred wrists and a strand of graying hair that had fallen out of his ponytail. "To them, a lie is better than the lives they have now. A man's only hope, even if it rationally seems futile, cannot be crushed when you have nothing to go back to."

Dumbledore nodded and went back to pacing. Remus' fear of the werewolves renewed itself. Not only would they be stronger now, but they will continue fighting until they die.

"Remus. Sirius. Continue teaching the children on how to defend themselves. I want the rest of you to keep researching. We no longer have anyone else to depend on but ourselves and six outcast hunters. Be prepared. I fear that time is no longer on our side."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Amon leaned on a desk in the sterile white room. The room had been dark before when Robin's power was being tested, and he hadn't noticed how blank it was until the candles were lit. Amon hated totally white rooms. They were too much like Solomon's experimental rooms on certain prisoners. He would've left ten minutes ago had it not been for Robin. The only good thing about the room was that it had no picture frames, and Robin probably needed the privacy more than ever.

She hadn't said anything since the old man called a meeting for all of the witches. He couldn't tell what was on her mind or even make sense of what happened within the last hour. Robin was a manufactured witch. She could be, quite possibly, the thing that he hated the most - a witch so powerful that even a trained hunter is no match. This was what Zaizen and Solomon had been afraid of. This is why they asked him to watch her.

Robin walked over to the desk and rested her hands on top. Strands of her hair were tangled with the frayed ribbons. Amon couldn't remember when she had slept last, though he guessed it was around the time he had slept a few days ago when they were in Japan. Robin was not taking the loss easily. She looked tired and much older than 15. He wouldn't call Robin sluggish, especially after what she just did, but she was barely moving now. He reluctantly admitted that making her cry all night the day before had not helped her present condition.

Amon looked back at Robin who was still staring at the desk and not making any move to look at him. Even though she had seemed comfortable around him before, Amon couldn't say that Robin wasn't feeling a little awkward being a witch next to an elite hunter. Amon stood up. "We should get back. Everyone else must be in the common room by now."

Robin grabbed the arm of his coat. She still wasn't looking at him, but Amon could tell she was debating saying something to him. Amon decided to keep silent until she asked him. Robin's hand dropped and she turned around. "Let's go."

Amon sighed. He never met anyone worse at talking about themselves than he was. Amon side-stepped around her and stood in her way. "If you want to say something to me, you should say it."

Robin looked away. "It's nothing."

"Robin, people who grow up in convents don't lie very well."

Robin pouted but still didn't turn to look at him.

Amon, slightly uneasy about a pouty Robin, looked at where everyone had been watching her. Pushing her to talk was not going to work. Or maybe she just didn't want to talk to him. Amon wasn't exactly unaware of his ominous features. Looming over her probably didn't help. "If it's something you want to talk to Karasuma about, we should leave now so you can get an answer quicker."

"She's too nice." Amon stared at her. "Karasuma won't give me a straight answer because she won't say anything that would hurt my feelings." Amon now understood why she wanted to ask him. After all, his callous behavior indicates that he's not one to care about others' feelings.

She looked up at him. "Amon. Can you truthfully answer a question for me?" Amon nodded, but hoped that his truthful response wasn't going to make her cry again.

Robin looked closely at Amon as if to gauge his response. "What am I?"

Amon blinked. "Nani?"

"If I was created through an experiment, then what am I?" Robin's eyes drooped a little. "Am I even human?"

Amon stared at Robin. He had been thinking about what Robin was on a regular basis since he had received the order to report on her every move. He supposed that the same conclusion he had come up with then, is the same now.

"People are born from various means whether it be natural or from a test tube, but one is not necessarily more human than the other..."

"They weren't genetically engineered clones, though."

"Technically, no. But finding out how you were born now doesn't change who you were yesterday. You're still the same Robin I met two months ago."

Robin's hands gripped the front of his jacket. "Is that really the truth?"

"Before we left for England, I was ordered by Zaizen to watch you. The Inquisitor believed you were a witch, and I was to find evidence that would convict you of being so." Amon paused, unsure of how much he should be saying. "You may have powers similar to other witches, but I can't think of you as one. I decided that before we got here, and that hasn't changed."

Robin slipped her hands underneath his coat and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Amon."

"I wouldn't worry too much, Robin. I'm sure the others feel the same way."

Robin looked up and smiled. She only smiled like that at him. It's not like Amon hadn't noticed. He had always thought of it as adoration, but now it was plainly obvious that this wasn't it. He never gave her any reason to feel like that. He had probably done the exact opposite so she would feel any other emotion except that. Even though he had pushed her away, she had somehow seen right through his actions.

Her ability to do so affected him more than he wanted to admit consciously. He wasn't the type of man to respond to a woman simply because she happened to show interest. Robin confused him and turned everything upside down. One could only look at the situation he found himself in now and wonder how he ended up here. He awkwardly put both of his arms around her. It was painfully obvious to him that he never really did anything like this before, at least not since he was young. Though Amon felt like he was in some terrible after school special on lecherous student teachers, he knew that no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, his feelings weren't going to change or disappear.

Robin's smile broadened, and she hugged Amon tighter, burying her face in his shirt. Amon, not really knowledgeable of these types of situations, decided that standing still was probably the best thing he could do.

The building shook and knocked Amon and Robin against a wall. Amon's grip on Robin tightened. "Are you all right?" Robin nodded.

Amon's cell phone rang in his jacket pocket. Amon glanced at Robin and picked it up.

"Amon!"

"Michael. What's going on?"

"There was an explosion outside. I think the Voldemort guy is attacking and breaking through the barriers. Everyone's heading down to the Great Hall. That's where they think he's going to end up. Is Robin with you?"

"Yes. We'll meet you at the Great Hall."

"OK."

Amon put the phone back in his pocket. "We have to go." Robin nodded again though slightly dazed about how quickly everything was happening. Amon grabbed her hand. "Stay by me, Robin."

"I will."

Amon pulled her out of the room and the two ran to the Great Hall. Only a few figures were left in the portraits, most of them knights. Another explosion sounded outside, and Robin's hand tightened in his. Both of them arrived at the Great Hall only to get pulled into a line of waiting wizards and hunters. They had already made a few lines, the most powerful in the front.

Dumbledore walked over to Robin and placed the horcrux in her left hand. He didn't need to say anything. Robin nodded and stared at the watch. Amon withdrew his gun and pointed it toward the doors. He looked down the line of intermingled wands and guns, all shaking. No one knew what was coming through those doors, and they didn't know how to defeat their enemy. The only people he wanted to protect - his team, Nagira, Robin - were all in this room. He'd be damned if he failed any of them this time. Amon stared straight ahead.


	15. Chapter 14: Face to Face

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter.

A/N: Yet another chapter to this ongoing series. I initially started this because none of the other HP/WHR fics were being updated or weren't really that great to begin with. I hope that other readers who were looking for a fic like this have enjoyed my work so far. Thank you again for all of the great reviews.

Chapter 14: Face to Face

A large explosion threw splinters of wood from the door toward the wizards and hunters, one narrowly missing Amon's head. Luckily because they had arrived late, no one had been behind him, but Robin's unease had grown as she hadn't even registered the large piece of wood until it passed her. Even if the witches were not keen on Amon, she doubted that they believed they didn't need his skills.

Though Amon hadn't moved out of the way, he hadn't flinched either. Amon's reaction time was far quicker than she would have guessed. He had let go of her hand to make sure his gun was steady, but he wasn't as distant as he usually was. Robin's doubts faded a little just by being near her squad leader.

Amon's sudden intense look and constriction of movement cued her to the shattered door where he must be seeing people through the smoke. She couldn't really see anything past the dust and rubble. Her field of vision became even more limited when Amon stood in front of her. Ready to protect him, Robin put her hand on his arm. He didn't turn around or budge under her pressure.

"Your concern is that watch, Robin." Amon turned slightly to look at her. "We need that destroyed." Robin nodded, though that was easier said than done. Amon grabbed her hand before she pulled it away. "If you can't do it, fight with me, and we'll just have to finish them off the hard way."

Even though Amon had immediately turned to the front of the Hall, Robin smiled to his back. Robin couldn't help but feel a little happy that Amon's interaction with her no longer consisted of insults. She looked to the others, while Amon concentrated on the front of the room. Everyone else was in a defensive stance, anxiously awaiting the new arrivals. She could tell the other hunters were worried. This would be the first time any of them fought without a game plan or some idea of what they were facing. Even Nagira had drawn a gun and lost the coat. He somehow looked a little more respectable with just the green suit.

A large number of figures drew Robin's attention to the front. Even though Amon told her to concentrate on the watch, she couldn't help but look at what the others had to handle. She grasped the back of Amon's coat and peered around him. Amon only afforded a glance at her, not daring to lose eyesight of the enemy for too long.

Robin could see the man that Karasuma described from her vision. He really did look a lot like a snake. His red eyes glowed upon seeing them. Robin held on tighter to Amon. She was sure the Devil was right in front of her.

"I have to say Dumbledore, your rag tag fighters are even worse off than I expected." Voldemort smugly looked around the room, but then narrowed his eyes. He abruptly turned to one of the cloaked figures behind him. The other man stumbled on words and was knocked down by a mere look from Voldemort.

He turned back tot he group, his sharpened teeth fully exposed. "There are a few things I didn't expect, though. You think those hunters are really going to help you? Whether they are here or not doesn't matter. You are all going to die." Voldemort raised his head, smiling wider. His gleeful expression frightened Robin more than his outburst. "Why don't we have a little fun first? Greyback."

A huge gray wolf emerged from the mass of cloaked figures. Blood mixed with saliva dripped from his mouth. They would not be his first prey tonight.

A murmur from Robin's group became louder. "That's impossible," Remus said, noticeably afraid at the turn of events. "The full moon isn't until next week."

"You didn't think that would stop me, did you?" Voldemort grinned and raised his wand. "Emergo Luna."

A full moon rose in the skies of the Great Hall, and more werewolves emerged from the crowd. "This Hall was my destination all along. You were already waiting for your doom."

An excruciating scream drew most of the attention to Remus, who was huddled onto the floor. Both Sirius and Tonks kneeled down and held onto him. Remus continued to yell out in pain but managed to glance at Sirius. Sirius nodded and immediately let go, pulling Tonks away and shielding her eyes. "What are you-"

"He doesn't want you to see this, Tonksie." He held on to her more tightly. "Please. Don't fight me." More screams ensued as the bones began to creak and stretch. With every new sound, tears started streaming from under Sirius' hand.

Robin pulled herself against Amon. The sight was unbearable to watch. Remus had been the one of the few adult witches to smile at them. She couldn't stand watching him go through so much pain. She could almost feel his every transformation course through her own body.

The last scream rumbled and turned into a final roar. The other witches had backed away from Remus, but Sirius had stayed closer than Robin would have believed safe. "Moony?"

The wolf turned its head, its eyes still shimmering with moisture. Sirius' looked closely at Remus. "Your eyes...they're not amber." He let go of Tonks. "Are you OK, Moony?"

"A minor problem with the incantation," Voldemort added, completely unaffected by the sight before him. "The werewolf gets to keep his human mind, but its just as well. This way, my werewolves won't be harming any of my Death Eaters." Voldemort turned to Greyback. "You ready?" The wolf bared its teeth and howled at the full moon above him. The others followed suit.

Dumbledore quickly faced Remus. "Sirius. You and Remus must fend off the werewolves." He looked desperately at Amon. "Your guns will be more effective toward them. You don't know any counter spells, so it's better for your team to not fight the other witches."

Amon nodded and looked at the hunters and Nagira. "Michael, help Robin with the watch. Everyone else...stay away from their mouths.

Robin pulled on Amon's coat. "I can help."

"No. Your priority is that watch."

"My fire will be more effective, and I can spread out my attacks."

Amon grabbed Robin's shoulder. "Do as I say, Robin, and protect Michael. Those wolves were human once. Don't dirty your hands by trying to help us." He looked at the others. "Let's go."

The hunters started firing while Remus and a huge black dog attacked the werewolves head-on. Robin hadn't seen Sirius change, but she began to worry about what other spells and abilities she and the others did not know about.

Doujima teamed up with Nagira, while Sakaki fought alongside Karasma. Amon went solo but was managing better than the other two teams.

Voldemort turned to another cloaked man. "Let's finish this up. I have a world to conquer."

Almost 100 people stampeded past the werewolves and hunters, shooting spells at the witches. The Weasley parents shielded the children, while the kids threw out spells of their own at the group.

Michael's hand brought her attention back to him. "Robin, the watch." She nodded and placed it on the floor. Concentrating as hard as she could, she sent a flame toward the horcrux. Both she and Michael looked closely. The watch still glimmered while the floor around it was scorched.

"It's not working," Robin said desperately.

"Are you concentrating hard enough?"

"As much as I can under these circumstances."

As if on cue, Remus tackled a werewolf, knocking into both Michael and Robin.

"Robin, let's move a little farther away."

She got up and ran but stopped in mid-stride. The watch was nowhere in sight. "Michael!" Robin shouted. She didn't have to say what they had lost.

"The werewolves must have knocked it away." Michael and Robin both looked frantically around the room, dodging as many human projectiles as possible.

"Oi! Oi! Miss Sena!" Robin turned to see Harry trying to get her attention. He held up the watch for her to see. Unfortunately, so did everyone else.

The werewolves kept the hunters at bay while the cloaked witches rushed Harry. Sirius ran ahead, and Harry gladly put the watch in the dog's mouth. Though Harry seemed to have gotten most of the attention purely because he was Harry Potter, the witches continued to chase Sirius, who was weaving in and out of mini battles trying to reach Robin.

Greyback knocked into Sirius before promptly getting hit by Remus. The gray wolf responded by snapping back, biting and clawing into Remus, causing more howls of pain. Robin ran up to help him, but saw the watch in the distance. She had to get the watch first. Seeing it slide across the floor only a few feet away, Robin ran after it, eventually catching up and grabbing the watch. Turning around in order to run in the other direction, Robin found herself at the feet of Voldemort.

"So you're the witch that Dumbledore is depending on." Before Robin could even register what was happening, Voldemort raised his wand. "Imperio."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry stared in disbelief as Voldemort took control of the one witch that could potentially save them or destroy them all. He gripped his wand arm to keep from shaking. There were other battles going on, but everyone must have taken notice to what had just occurred. He glanced at his friends. Despite being protected by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, they all looked haggard. Neville had taken a spell to the chest, and the others had random cuts and bruises on their bodies. Even though he and his friends had braved through more near death experiences than anyone his age had ever gone through, they still did not possess the knowledge to defeat the enemy.

Hermione was the best off as she knew more spells than everyone else. Fred and George even utilized their tricks to diminish the number of Death Eaters. Even then, they were still scraping by. He didn't know what would happen if a witch that no one knew how to defend against would start attacking.

One of the hunters knocked down Harry, both of whom barely missed a red lightning bolt from hitting their heads. "You alright?" Harry looked up at the young boy holding a gun. He didn't really wait for an answer, firing his gun at some of the werewolves and Death Eaters in the vicinity.

"Haruto, don't waste your magazine. Fire at the werewolves. The witches can handle the rest."

"But Robin is-"

"I know." The woman continued firing, but she looked as desperate as everyone else. That girl was their colleague, their friend. Regardless of the tales Mrs. Weasley told him about the hunters, Harry knew he would be devastated if Ron were ever under Voldemort's curse. He had to do something.

"Harry!" Ron's voice attracted his attention to the left where Bellatrix Lestrange was already in the middle of casting the killing curse.

"Sectumsempra!" Bellatrix flew into the wall, her torso covered in gashes. Harry turned to see Snape eyeing him. "Pay attention to your surroundings, Potter. Didn't that godfather of yours teach you anything?"

"I knew you were a traitor!" Malfoy came up behind Snape faster than he expected.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, easily disarming his rival's father.

Snape glanced at Harry then back to Malfoy. "Petrificus Totalus." Snape looked down at Malfoy. "Your wife may have saved you from dying at my hands, but maybe a limp body will be too appetizing for a werewolf to pass up."

Harry stared at Snape. He wasn't entirely sure if he should thank him for saving his life earlier. The guy was definitely a freak.

A burst of flame hitting much of the Death Eaters and knocking down Kingsley Shacklebolt drew Harry's attention back to the girl with pigtails.

Her green eyes were red, and she was burning everything in sight. Voldemort stood behind her in awe, laughing maniacally. Harry wondered if all villains had to laugh like that.

"We have to attack her before she kills all of us," Snape said to Mr. Weasley.

"We can't!" Harry blurted. "She's under the imperius curse. She's innocent!"

"That doesn't mean she won't attack you, Potter."

"If we distract Voldemort, maybe his hold on her will vanish."

"You haven't learned anything, Potter. Lord Voldemort does not need to control someone with a lot of concentration. He could fight 100 of us and still control her." He turned back to Robin, whose attention was directed toward Moody and Dumbledore. Snape raised his wand.

"Professor!"

"I have a clear shot, and I'm taking it. Sectumsempra!"

Blood splattered all over the girl's clothing and face. Her hand reached up to brush some of it out of her eyes. Harry saw her turn in their direction just in time to see her captain fall to the ground.

Unlike Bellatrix, he was still moving. Even though Harry's interaction with the man had been limited, he could tell that the guy was pretty strong. After all, he had become the leader of an organization like Solomon. Both Harry and the man were looking at Robin, whose facial expression hadn't changed too much. The blood continued to drip down her face and dress. Though she didn't scream for him, she had also stopped her attack.

Voldemort grabbed the man by the hair and dragged him upward. The man was too tall to be lifted off the ground, but his broken body was weighing him down. The blood trickled down his forehead.

"How admirable, but the effort was wasted." He looked at Robin. "Incinerate him."

Robin's eyes glowed red again, and whatever hope Harry had left for the man was completely gone. Using what was most likely the rest of his strength, the man broke Voldemort's arm at the elbow and tackled the girl, kissing her in the process. The flames engulfed them both.

Harry watched as the horcrux fell out of the flames and melted to the ground below. A few feet away, he saw Voldemort crawling away from the flames, nursing his arm. All those years that monster tormented him, killed Cedric in front of him, killed his parents before he knew them, and destroyed the only place he ever felt at home. Harry raised his wand. No one will every feel that pain again as long as he was alive. "Avada Kedavra!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Everything around her was dark, yet she could see her body so clearly. Unable to walk or speak, Robin stood in place feeling helpless. She could not remember what happened before she got here. She couldn't remember if there even was a place before this world of darkness.

"What am I doing here?" Robin turned to see a 8-year-old boy sitting at a desk in what appeared to be an elementary school. He was staring at the picture in front of him, blindly coloring out of the lines. A crayon at the end of his desk rolled to his hand without any physical encouragement. The boy ran both of his small hands through his short, brown hair, gripping clumps and pulling hard. "What's going on with me?" Robin didn't see his lips move.

"Stop it!" Turning her head to the other direction, Robin saw a little girl on the ground, shaking and surrounded by a group of kids. One of the boys picked her up and threw her to another boy, who then pushed her around the circle. The boys were yelling. "I didn't mean to." The girl was crying, each push eliciting more tears. "I didn't want to know. Please. Stop touching me."

Another flash attracted Robin's attention to the front. A boy, barely 5 years old, crouched on the floor, staring at a woman's body in front of him. Twenty more bodies were strewn around him and the woman. Unlike the other two visions, she heard nothing. The boy neither cried nor talked. More men walked up, this time donning what Robin thought was orbo necklaces. Again, there was no reaction from the child. He merely dug his nails into each of his legs and looked up blankly.

Robin's eyes widened as the soldiers took the small boy by the arms and dragged him away. Robin tried to move or say anything, but to no avail.

"My hope." Robin spun around. The room was again pitch black. "You will bring new life and meaning to this world. I have faith in you."

A flash of Robin's own face appeared before her, but the image was different. The face was weathered with pain and sorrow but still smiling. Robin tried to reach out to her, but she couldn't move. She did, however, notice the watch in her hand. It was open and the hands were spinning wildly.

"Robin!" No matter where she was or what situation she was in, she would never forget that voice.

Robin threw the watch aside. "Amon!"

Her eyes fluttered open, and she could see and feel Amon on top of her. His face was covered in blood, and he was propped up on one arm, heavily leaning on it. His chest was exposed and she saw huge gashes running down his front. Robin raised her hand to touch one, but Amon caught her hand first.

"Don't worry about it. I think you may have cauterized the wounds. They've stopped bleeding."

Robin looked at him, plainly confused. "I don't understand." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a werewolf heading toward her and Amon. Realizing where she was, Robin broke her hand free from Amon's and threw both arms around his neck, pulling him into her. She stared down the werewolf, fire exploding between them. The werewolf backed up a few feet.

"There's no need to fight anymore," Dumbledore yelled, across the room from Robin. "Voldemort is no more. Give up now, and we can help you."

Greyback roared again and charged at Dumbledore. Tonks grabbed a chair and threw it at Greyback, hitting him on the side and knocking him over.

Her eyes still watering, Tonks forcefully pointed her wand at the wolf. "It's your fault! You made him feel that kind of pain. You destroyed his childhood! I'll never forgive you." Tonks' tears spilled out while she screamed "Avada Kedavra!"

Sirius transformed back into his human form and put his arms around Tonks, pulling her away from Greyback's corpse.

Dumbledore raised his wand. "Descendo Luna." The werewolves returned back into humans, and Dumbledore immediately covered Remus with his robe. "Please. Too many people have died tonight."

The other werewolves looked at each other and then at Greyback's body. Dumbledore carefully supported Remus, who was struggling to get up. "You aren't the only ones suffering," Dumbledore said. "I will make it my business to help you. You have my word."

The werewolves, tired from their re-transformation, limped away leaving the Death Eaters behind. Clinging to their masks, the rest of the group fled the scene.

Tonks broke free from Sirius and ran over to Remus, putting her arms around him. "I'll take care of him, Dumbledore." The old man nodded and let go of Remus' side.

"It's all right, Nympha-"

"You finish that sentence, and I'm dropping you."

Remus smiled and put his arms around her. "I'll try to remember that."

Karasuma ran over to Amon and Robin. "How is he?" Sakaki followed Karasuma and helped pick up Amon.

Robin gently put Amon in sitting position on the ground. He touched his scarred chest. "I'll be fine." He tiredly looked over at the two hunters. "It's not life threatening."

Karasuma and Sakaki kneeled down beside him. "You scared us for a moment," Karasuma said, taking a look at Amon's wounds.

"Yeah, though how odd was that when you took out Robin and accidentally kissed her." Robin's face went bright red.

Karasuma pulled Sakaki closer to her. "It wasn't an accident, Haruto."

"Huh?" Karasuma stared at him. "Oh." Sakakit bolted upright. "OH!" He put his hand on the back of his head and started laughing. "Go, Amon-san."

Amon glared at Sakaki. "Since when does Karasuma call you Haruto?" Both of the hunters turned red and looked in the opposite direction.

Michael ran over to Sakaki. "Everything OK?"

"More or less," Sakaki mumbled. "Amon-san is certainly back to normal."

Nagira and Doujima joined the group. "The witches are healing some of their wounds," Nagira informed them. "Does my baby brother need some medical attention?"

"I'm fine."

"Indeed. Those scars don't look painful at all. How about I punch you in the stomach and drag you to the witches." Amon glared at Nagira. "What did I say about that not working on me?"

Robin kneeled down between Amon's legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll take care of him."

Nagira raised an eyebrow and conspicuously winked at Amon. He turned to Doujima. "How about we take a look at your cuts, little missy."

"I think that's a great idea." She winked and waved at Robin.

Karasuma got up and grabbed Sakaki and Michael. "Why don't we allow our wounds to be tended to as well."

"But I'm not-"

Karasuma dragged Sakaki and Michael behind her. Robin let go of Amon and looked at his chest, running a hand down his scars.

Amon grabbed her hand again, his cheeks a little pink. "That's not necessary, Robin."

She smiled at Amon's small, but highly uncharacteristic blush. "I wish I could remember." Amon looked up at her. "I mean...when you..."

Pulling her down into his lap, Amon put an arm around her and wiped away some of the blood on her face. "It's not like it won't happen again, Robin."

Blushing from ear to ear, Robin wrapped her arms around him again and put her head on his shoulder. "We should probably get cleaned up first."

"That or get some privacy." Robin looked up to see Doujima and Nagira watching them intently and Karasuma desperately trying to turn Sakaki's head in another direction. Snuggling back onto Amon's shoulder, Robin stopped caring about who was watching them.

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A lead hunter and a witch. The irony wasn't wasted on him. Everything that he couldn't put together before was finally coalescing into one obvious fact. To think that a man like Amon could be attracted to a creature like that made him wonder about his other hunters.

But then again, she was different. She was the witch who would repopulate this planet with her vermin. She may have seduced him with her power. He watched as Amon's arms wound tighter around her body. He'll kill them both if he needs to.

Zaizen cocked his gun and looked to the mass of Solomon soldiers. They'll never see them coming.


	16. Chapter 15: Illusion of Victory

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter.

A/N: OMG, I updated. A million apologies for not updating sooner, especially with the last chapter's cliff hanger. I hope that those who have read the story have enjoyed it, and many thanks to those who have reviewed the story. This was my first fanfiction, and I'm really grateful for the response. After what I think has been a couple months, here are the last two chapters. Again, sorry for the wait, but I hope it was somewhat worth it.

Chapter 15: Illusion of Victory

Amon looked on as Robin tried to figure out a way to bandage his wounds. Split between fumbling with the bandages and openly staring at his chest, Robin still had not managed to make any progress. Smiling slightly, Amon reached over and took the bandages from Robin. "I can handle this." Robin didn't fight him and instead focused on her leg.

To say that he had done this before would be an understatement. Amon had always taken care of his own wounds, usually with little difficulty. As well as he was trained to break bones, he also learned how to set them properly, though he used the latter talent more on himself than on anyone he was fighting. However, Amon couldn't help but wince when wrapping his torso.

Three broken ribs to be sure, possibly some damage to the sternum. He'd never seen a power as violent as that, much less felt it. If Robin hadn't burned the gashes shut, he was sure his fate would have been no different than that of the witch lying a few hundred feet away. The amount of blood the human body possessed never failed to surprise him.

He tightened the bandages and gently smoothed out the front before tying the final loop around his waist. He wondered if these wounds would ever heal.

Amon felt a hand ruffle his hair as if he were a dog. Amon looked up and glared at Nagira.

The man was grinning as usual. "Had enough alone time?"

Unwilling to risk anymore injury or to show his brother that he was hurt worse than he was admitting, Amon decided not to fix his hair. "What is it?"

"Just wondering how my otouto was faring."

"What did you really come here for?"

Nagira sighed and took a closer look at Amon's forehead, which was still bloody from Voldemort's attempt to pull his hair out. "I was wondering what you guys and the other hunters decided on doing after this."

"We haven't talked about it yet."

"I'd get on that. It's easier for me to do this as quickly as possible. That is, unless you plan on staying here."

Amon glanced up at Nagira then back over at Robin. "I'll let you know soon."

Much to Amon's chagrin, Nagira continued to try to fix his scalp. With little else he could do, he looked around the Great Hall, now riddled with holes and claw marks. Even the sky had a dusty overcast shadowing what had occurred below.

Amidst the rubble, the witches were attending to each other's wounds. The red-haired couple was reprimanding the children, though the father looked as though he were praising them. The convict was talking to the young boy, presumably about him murdering Voldemort. Amon mentally reminded himself to keep a closer eye on the boy. The pink-haired witch was dumping extra robes on top of the werewolf, who had been unsuccessfully trying to hide his modesty with only the old witch's robe. The old witch was still, more or less, talking business with some of the other witches. Karasuma had more or less settled both of the boys down, only to get an onslaught of questions from the two hunters. He always knew she was the most useful member of the group.

Trying to hide his amusement, Amon turned to where the doors of the Great Hall were. It only took a second for him to recognize two shadows running from column to column. It unfortunately took them just as long to recognize they were seen.

Crashing windows notified him of the siege in the back. The witches were panicking and starting to run for the opening of the Great Hall. They were running straight into a trap.

Amon quickly grabbed Robin's arm. "Make a barrier between us and the opening."

"But they're coming from - "

"Robin." She nodded and sent a wall of fire between the hole where Voldemort attacked and where the witches were running. They all stopped and tried to gauge whether or not Robin was still being controlled by another.

A one-man applause echoed in the hall. The Solomon agents at the windows ceased their movements and stood with their guns trained on the witches.

"I guess I should give you some credit, Amon. After all, you were trained by the best. Though you may have given yourself a little time, you know this wall won't stop us."

Zaizen and an army of Solomon agents walked through the flames, their orbo necklaces glowing and bubbling. The witches stood in horror as the flames seemed to part for the new intruders.

Amon's stomach clenched. Through sheer force of will, he had managed to break Voldemort's arm and tackle Robin. But that rush of adrenaline was all but depleted. He was struggling to keep his eyes open. He would not be able to fend off an entire army of Solomon agents.

He put his hand on the floor to steady himself. Nagira's grip on his shoulder was probably the only thing preventing him from falling over. He glanced around at all of the possible exits.

"We have everything covered." Zaizen was looking straight at Amon. "There's no point in thinking up some miraculous scheme to overtake us. Every single one of you used whatever strength you had left in that last fight. Even if you find or make an exit, you couldn't run away fast enough."

The old witch made a step forward. "Who are you?"

Zaizen grinned at the old man. "I am the leader of the STN-J, and I'm here to eradicate your kind." Without looking back at the Solomon agents, he turned to look at Amon straight in the eyes. "Fire at will."

Both of the old witch's arms spread out to each side of the room. "Immobilis." Amon barely had time to register the triggers being pulled before he saw the bullets fall to the ground.

Zaizen looked less than pleased. "Prepare for close combat. Fire only when you get in point blank range."

Amon watched the agents walk forward in no particular hurry to send the witches and hunters to their deaths. They wouldn't rush through the execution. They'd make sure to hold the line to avoid any escapes.

The curses sent flying from the witches were bouncing off of their bodies. Amon looked at his gun. Bullets would have a different effect. "Karasuma!"

Shaking herself out of a trance, she turned quickly to Amon, who had his gun drawn, though he was barely able to keep his arm up to aim it. The recoil from a shot would be more than his body would be able to stand.

Karasuma got in position with Sakaki, kneeling in front of Michael. "Open fire."

Karasuma and Sakaki concentrated their fire on the agents closing in from the back, while Nagira and Doujima started firing on those in the front.

Nagira's grip on Amon tightened. "Tell me if you see anything important going on in the back."

Amon shifted a little to watch Karasuma and Sakaki. "Are you trying to make me feel better about not being able to fire my weapon?"

Nagira grabbed Amon's gun as backup. "You'll know before any of us if they start doing something sneaky. But if you want to see it like that, be my guest."

Nagira's frustrated groan attracted Amon's attention to his brother. "Something I should know?"

"There are craft users among the Solomon ranks, and they're blocking our bullets. Any luck in the back?"

Amon glanced behind. "A little more, but similar results."

"This could get dirty if no one can attack except at close contact. How are your agents in hand-to-hand combat?"

"With the exception of Michael and Robin, they're sufficient. I can't say as much about the witches, though."

"You may be right about that." Nagira paused. "Should we keep firing?"

Amon could barely feel his legs. "We'll be at a disadvantage otherwise."

"I think we'll be in an even worse position when we run out of bullets. How many clips do you have left?"

"Not enough to sustain firing for as long as you're talking about."

"Then I guess we don't have a choice." Nagira lowered his gun and stood up, carefully picking up Amon in the process. "Cease fire."

Doujima, Karasuma and Sakaki stopped the barrage of bullets, but didn't lower their weapons in case one of the agents decided to be the hero and start firing before getting any closer.

Nagira grabbed Amon's arm and wrapped it across his neck. "Are we better off scattered or as a group?"

"We'll be better off spread apart. It'll be more likely for hunters to shoot each other with only one or two people in between them than having a group huddled together. That and it's doubtful the others would be willing to use anyone as a human shield."

"Not unless we get our hands on one of those agents."

"That'll be unlikely for most of the people here."

Nagira sighed. "Always the pessimist."

Amon tried to shift himself into another position that didn't make his arm feel like Nagira was dislocating it. The extra movement only made it worse. "Nagira, put me down."

Nagira looked worriedly at Amon before placing him back down on the ground. "You gonna be okay, otouto?"

Amon tried to stop the swimming images in front of him. He wouldn't close his eyes. He doubted they would open again if he did.

Zaizen continued his march with the other agents, who barely suffered any losses. Their footsteps echoed through Amon's skull, each footfall pounded louder and longer than the one before. He barely felt a brief shake of his shoulder. He looked at Nagira who was asking him something, but the footsteps were drowning out the words.

Nagira looked worried. When was the last time they talked? Had they ever acted like brothers? They never spent much time together. Their attitudes were so dissimilar that spending any longer than 10 minutes in the same room would lead to some sort of argument. Then why did he care?

Both of Nagira's hands were on his shoulders and the forcefulness of the shaking and the rapid movements of his jaw told Amon that he was yelling. Amon could no longer lift his arms, even if he wanted to knock his hands away or console him.

Nagira abruptly turned away from Amon, yelling something indecipherable and raising the gun. Bullets began to fly again and now broken tables and pieces of the wall, windows and ceiling joined the bullets in hitting the intruders.

Amon could barely make out Nagira's face much less which bullets belonged to which side. Everything was just a collection of blurs. Amon blinked slowly, careful to reopen them again as quickly as possible. The image in front of him didn't improve.

A bullet hit Nagira's hand, knocking away the gun and their only protection. Nagira wrenched his other hand away from Amon to grab the gun only to have it kicked away by one of the agent's feet.

Amon's hand twitched. He couldn't move to save his brother. He was trained to take down witches for the majority of his life, and now he couldn't move to disarm a man who would normally have been no threat to him.

The butt of a pistol smashed against the helmet of the agent. Doujima's face was blurred but the movement of her arms was frantic. She pulled on Nagira's collar to drag him away from another wave of bullets. Nagira turned back to Amon, but stopped in mid-turn, staring just beyond Amon's side.

A little relieved that Nagira was safe and that he had somehow managed to stay upright, Amon's hope fell when he saw an agent running his way, gun drawn.

A black curtain blocked his view. His eyes widened.

* * *

He loved her hair and was glad that he had inherited that above all of the other features. She said that boys should wear their hair short, but he always wanted his to be a little longer, just so it would mirror hers. She stopped asking him to cut it.

Puzzles were never hard for Amon. It had been easy for him to complete all of the puzzles during a break. He didn't really understand why everyone was so surprised by this, but she said she was proud of him. He never asked why.

They moved a lot. She never gave him a reason, only that it was time to move on. It was never a long trip. It was usually only a city or two away. She said it was far enough. He'd follow her, even if it were to another country.

Her black dress blocked him from the men. She was screaming. Some of the men were flung to the wall. She wouldn't look at him. Her hair twirled in the wind that she was creating. He loved her hair. He reached for the tip of her hair when it flew back to where he could reach it. A gust of wind hit him in the stomach, and he crashed into the dresser. She didn't turn around.

The splatter of blood on his face made everything red. She wouldn't move. Her hair was pasted down on her face and back. He tugged on a piece of her dress. One of the men grabbed her, dumping her over his shoulder as if it were a carcass of an animal. His eyes went black.

* * *

Nagira stared at his brother. A moment ago he was shaking Amon's shoulders trying to wake him up. He had lost a lot of blood and his lack of eating over the past few days probably didn't help him. Amon had been on the verge of passing out. Nagira shakily stood up. Amon's hand had just ripped out the throat of the agent in front of Robin.

A dozen more agents also saw this happen and ran toward Amon and Robin. She was hugging him and chanting something. Amon turned his head toward the other agents. His eyes were black, even the white in his eyes were gone. His mouth moved, and the agents were swallowed by their shadows.

Nagira suppressed the urge to cheer at Amon's handy timing in awakening his powers. He looked over to the progress in the back to see the agents screaming and struggling against their own shadows. It swallowed the surrounding light and ripped away the orbo necklaces. Some of the agents merely fell into the dark abyss while others fought against the arms, only to instead have an arm or leg ripped off.

Doujima's grip on Nagira tightened. Everyone had stopped in their tracks. The Weasleys were hugging the children, trying to cover their eyes. Dumbledore was shaking. Tonks buried her head into one of Remus' many robes. Blood was dripping off of Karasuma and Sakaki. Their backs were turned, but their posture was ramrod straight.

Nagira whipped his head to the front of the hall where the other agents were suffering the same fate. Multiple hands from other shadows were on Zaizen pulling in every direction. Nagira grabbed Doujima and quickly turned her face toward his chest. He closed his eyes but still heard the scream and the disgusting popping sound. He eased Doujima onto the floor. Nagira glanced at the blood stain on the floor. Not every villain gets a word in before he dies.

Robin's voice drew his attention back to Amon. Her chanting became clearer. It wasn't a spell. She was asking him to stop. She placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to get closer to his ears. Her shadow became disfigured and reached out for her.

Nagira jumped up and ran over. "Robin, get out of the way."

A black arm grabbed his wrist and jerked him away from them. The shadow wrapped its arms around Robin's waist, pulling her down. She desperately swung her arms around Amon's neck, her fingers barely interlocking with one another. The shadow continued to drag her down.

"Amon!" Robin's voice didn't seem to be reaching him. He stared blindly at her face, his black eyes reflecting none of the light in the room.

Nagira grimaced as his shadow pulled harder. He could feel the bones of his wrist being crushed underneath the pressure. He turned to his brother regardless of the pain behind him.

Robin's screaming became louder and her hold on Amon was lessening. He saw the other hunters running and being caught before they reached her. Sakaki and Karasuma struggled to help Michael against his shadow while they tried to keep themselves upright at the same time. Doujima was quickly losing her footing against the arms around her leg and forced her heel into a crevice for more support.

Nagira clenched his teeth. Amon's powers continued to devour the Solomon agents, but his face showed no happiness nor crazed hunger for power. He simply looked as though he had given up.

Nagira was seven when he was told he had a younger brother.

He imagined all the games they would play when he got there. He'd teach him how to manipulate their father and mother to get what they wanted. He'd tell him about the secret stash of pocky he hid under the floorboards. He'd have someone who would look up to him like he did his father. He'd have someone to take care of when no one else was around.

Nagira was nine when he was told he would never see his brother.

He fought, like he always did. It was in his early twenties when he tracked him down, but when he got there, there was nothing but an empty shell. He had been too late. He hadn't fought hard enough to reach him. At that moment, he promised himself that he would never stop trying.

Nagira raised his head. He could see Amon's face so clearly. The indignant glares at his comments. The upturned corner of his mouth at something funny. The softening of his eyes when he looked at Robin.

The hunters were yelling beside him as their hands were losing their grip on Michael. Doujima's heel broke, and she landed hard on her knee, gripping whatever she could with her hands. Robin's hands slipped from around Amon's neck, and she fell backward, her arms outstretched toward him.

He would never see his brother again.

Ignoring the loud crack of his wrist, he yelled, charging at Amon and punching him across the face with his good arm. Robin fell on the ground, and the hunters fell forward from the sudden loss of force. Nagira fell on his knees and stared at Amon.

He wasn't unconscious, though Nagira expected as much. The hit had been hard, and he hadn't held anything back, but Amon wouldn't go down easily. Amon glanced over at Nagira, his eyes the normal shade of gray. He flinched, brought his hand up to his cheek and glared at his older brother.

Nagira sighed. "Serves you right, and what did I say about that not working on me."

Amon sat up and looked around. His eyes widened suddenly, and Nagira jumped up and blocked his view of the surroundings.

"Everything's over now. We're all safe."

Amon's mouth moved a few times. "Nagira - "

"Everything will be fine. We'll figure something out." He placed his hand on top of Amon's head and grinned. "I always think of something."

Nagira could hear hesitant footsteps behind him.

"Is it safe?" The old witch still had a shaky voice.

Nagira turned around. All of the witches were staring. For the first time, the children looked frightened and held on to their respective relatives. Everyone seemed to be gripped onto someone else for support. "You don't have to worry about anything."

Sirius stood in front of Harry. "How can we be sure of that? How do we know he won't go berserk again."

"We don't." Nagira didn't bother looking over. "We'll put as much faith in him as we do with every other witch."

"That isn't good enough." Sirius' eyes hardened. "I can't accept merely having faith in him when he almost killed his own teammates."

Karasuma glared at Sirius. "All craft-users cannot control their powers at first, especially when we have no teacher to guide us. That only gets harder when the witch awakens later in life. But Amon is a fast learner. This won't happen again."

"Your blind faith is touching, but you're not giving me any reason to believe you."

Remus looked up at Sirius and smiled faintly, still ragged from the transformation earlier. "There are no concrete reasons to believe in anyone or anything. You do or you don't. It's a decision you choose on your own."

"Don't go philosophical on me, Remus. You wouldn't be saying that if one of the kids got caught in the middle of his outburst."

Looking sadly over at Amon, Remus tugged at the robes to look at a scar on his wrist. "I couldn't offer you, James or Lily a reason to have faith in me. To believe that I wouldn't hurt anyone."

"You had more control," Sirius barked. "Don't compare the two."

"But there's always that chance that something bad could happen." Remus stared at Sirius. "A missed potion, what happened two years ago. There is always a chance that I could lose control and hurt someone."

Tonks gripped Remus' robes. "You're stronger than that."

Remus' eyes brightened, but he didn't smile. "Can you say that it will never happen? Or is it because I'm your friend?" He looked at Sirius. "Do you honestly see a difference between our situations?"

Sirius furrowed his brow, but turned his head aside. "You had us to help you. To make sure that nothing would ever go wrong."

Karasuma looked at the two men. "And Amon will have us."

Robin reattached herself to Amon, and Nagira couldn't help chuckling. Her blush returned, though she looked worriedly at Amon. "I'll help him. As the Eve I should be able to do something with calming crafts."

Nagira smiled. "As the Eve you have other duties as well, though I suppose that still requires Amon's skills."

Robin looked at him questioningly, while Amon tried to lose eye contact with everyone in the room. "Nagira." Despite Amon's obvious discomfort, his arm tightened around Robin.

Sakaki helped Michael up. "I don't understand. How did you know punching him was going to stop the craft?"

Nagira turned to Sakaki. "I didn't."

Doujima coughed. "That's comforting."

"What was I supposed to do? Hug him?" He turned to Amon. "You want a hug?"

"Stay away from me, Nagira."

"Thought as much."

Karasuma brushed off her skirt. "I actually thought Robin would have been the one to stop him."

Doujima turned to her. "Isn't it always supposed to end with a kiss?"

Robin blushed. "I...I couldn't reach."

Amon closed his eyes tiredly. "Robin, don't listen to them."

Nagira stood up and looked around. The witches were hugging each other, the parents almost strangling the children. "I think we need to get fixed up...again." He sighed and turned back to Amon. "C'mon. Let's get you up."

Robin removed her arms so Nagira could place himself under Amon's shoulder.

Amon turned slightly. "Arigatou, aniki."

"Aa. Anytime."


	17. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter.

A/N: In case readers go straight to this chapter, as it was a while since the last update and I wouldn't even know what the last chapter would be, go back one chapter for the earlier post. For everyone else, I hope no one kills me for my alternative use in pairings.

Epilogue

"The assignment will be due next class period, so be sure to do your research over the weekend."

"Can you believe we have to do homework on a Friday night?"

"I know! I have a party to go to!"

"This is so unfair."

Karasuma closed her notebook and glanced over at the girls. She barely suppressed a snicker.

She thought it was going to be hard to get back into a normal lifestyle, but the paperwork and Nagira's official-looking documents were made fairly easily. Initially she wanted to go back to Japan, but that would have been dangerous, especially if they bumped into old friends or relatives. She really had no other preference, but Michael invited her and Haruto to live near him in America. Amon was against it, as Solomon knew where Michael lived, but Nagira arranged for Michael's family to move to another city. They were nervous, but it was a bigger house, so they didn't mind too much.

She didn't know where Amon and Robin were. Apparently both of them had decided to stay with each other, though Karasuma had seen that coming since the whole fiasco in England had started. Nagira was tight-lipped when it came to their whereabouts, even to Doujima. He probably guessed that she would be slipping them information about anything she could get her hands on.

To the best of her knowledge, the other witches were trying to start over and return back to normal, or whatever they considered to be normal there. With an entire branch of Solomon gone, she doubted the agency would send anyone to fight them, but they weren't willing to take that chance.

Amon and herself had filled the witches in with whatever information they had, Amon having some that she didn't even know about. They said they were going to create another job solely dedicated to handling hunters. One of the girls also kept chatting about writing a book about them. She wondered if her name would be in it.

Her craft still concerned her, and she forced herself to wear gloves at all times, no matter what kind of looks she would receive. She hadn't realized that it was a fashion statement for some students. She thanked whatever clothes designer came up with such a bizarre style.

While the physical means of going back to school had been easy, Karasuma still hadn't warmed up to the lifestyle. She couldn't get around to making new friends or being able to trust many people. She still kept to herself, excelling in class, but leaving as quickly as possible to avoid the students.

She picked up her books and purse and walked out of the classroom to see Haruto waiting with a glazed-over look and his soul floating a few inches above him.

"That bad?"

"I hate English."

Karasuma turned and started walking with Haruto lifelessly trailing behind her.

"If you had taken it the first year here, you may have done better. It's been three years, but both Michael and I have been tutoring you since we got here."

"Yeah, but...all these words sound the same." His shoulders slumped lower. "Why do we have to talk in English all the time."

"Practice. That and we don't want to draw unneeded attention to us by speaking another language. There is a limited number of Asian, much less Japanese students here as it is."

Haruto dragged his feet. "Still, I'd like to speak in Japanese every once in a while, and..." He turned away. "There's a lot more I could say better in Japanese."

Karasuma brought her books tighter to her chest. "When we're at home or maybe out of earshot, then."

Haruto ran up and grabbed Karasuma by the waist. He leaned down next to her ear. "Anata no ichiban, Miho."

"Get a room."

They both turned to see Michael pretending to gag himself.

Haruto let go of Karasuma. "How did you get past the card swipe devices for the building?"

"You ask that like it's difficult."

Karasuma refixed her hair. "Is there something important?"

Michael walked over and took out a letter. "Is there a good tree to sit under?"

The trio made their way over to a tree that was somewhat isolated from the busier walkways.

Haruto glanced at the letter. "Nagira?"

Michael readjusted his glasses. "Yeah." He handed them the letter. "And Doujima. Those two make an odd couple."

Karasuma looked at Michael. "She's not with Solomon is she?"

"Apparently the guys that attacked us in England were only under the boss, so her position was still available, and she would be getting a lot of information that could help Nagira. But, I think she turned it down anyway."

Karasuma smiled. "Good."

"From what Nagira says, Solomon isn't really concentrating on finding us. This whole thing with the other witches seems to be bothering them more, now that their success rate has fallen dramatically. That or the large build-up of anti-hunter squads in England. But Amon and Robin are still having a difficult time."

Haruto skimmed through the letter. "How difficult are we talking about?"

"They have to move every three months or so, but Nagira says they're doing okay."

"What about Amon's power?"

"Under control from what I hear. Robin seems to be getting used to effectively training other witches."

Karasuma looked at her hands. "Will we see them again?"

"He didn't say, but they haven't forgotten us, either."

Karasuma looked up, then quickly at Michael. "I think one of the campus security guard's has taken a liking to your work on that door over there."

"Oh. I guess that's my cue." He stood up and brushed the grass off of his jeans. "You're coming to dinner, right?"

Haruto grinned. "Can't pass up free food."

"Good. I'll see you tonight, then."

Sakaki waved. "Ne, Miho."

Karasuma looked over.

"You think there's any baby news?"

"I think it would be difficult for them, especially for having to move so often."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Karasuma smiled and brushed some grass out of Haruto's hair, which she couldn't fully ascertain how it got there in the first place. "Thank you for not asking that in front of Michael."

"Michael's easier to read than others."

Karasuma folded the letter and put it in her notebook. "So, how badly did you do on that English test?"

Haruto shuddered. "Pretty awful." He yawned and conspicuously put his arm around Karasuma. She rolled her eyes. "You know, the best way to learn a language is in bed."

Karasuma walked toward the dining hall, leaving Haruto to pry his face out of the ground. She looked up at the cloudless sky and tightened her grip on her gloves. They'll definitely meet again.


End file.
